Kendov Tiid
by Thorin Stormbrewer
Summary: "Your noble soul will kill you someday, Dovakhiin. In fact, from what you've told me of your past, it already has." Harry Potter, thrown through the veil trails down the passages of time and lands in the unlikeliest of places with no idea who he is. He must find someone to help him unlock the secrets of his past, to return to the battle of the future.
1. Skyrim

**A/N: Good day friends!**

**As you might already know, this is a Harry Potter/Skyrim crossover, and my very first story. Don't worry, it's not THAT bad. Only bad. But not THAT bad. **

**So yeah, take the time to read this in its entirety and then tell me what you think. You know as well as I do that we love the idea of our boy wonder in the world we love. So review! Akatosh demands it! HAHA**

**Well, there isn't much to say about this story besides that it's a very long adventure for Harry. 30 chapters at the least with a sequel. But then again, I might have other thoughts on where this story should go and make the story shorter. But who knows. Just enjoy the ride yeah?**

"Make sure you finish harvesting the cabbages and carrots by the end of the day Feubler! Merchants are coming all the way from Windhelm and it would be a shame if I hadn't anything to sell them!"

Feubler Stormbrewer smiled at his father, pushing a wheel barrow down the slope of the small hill there house stood proudly upon. He was quick to reply a 'yes father' before he proceeded to do as he was told. Much as he would like to instead sit under an a tree and read a book he had recently bought in Whiterun whilst he took a bite from the apple he had grown a few months back, Feubler knew that such an act would be the downfall of the farm there family owned. In fact, it would be the downfall of the family.

So he instead merrily pushed the wheel barrow towards where the cabbages and carrots were grown to finally harvest them. He knew what was up ahead of course; after he harvested them, he still had to process the vegetables so that the family, most especially his father, would know what vegetables were to be sold to whom and whatnot. After that, he had a long journey to do to deliver all the fruits and vegetables that they've grown to the towns and other settlements that paid to buy what they've planted. Whiterun, Dawnstar, Windhelm; you name it. As long as they pay and the people buying won't get you killed, you're good to go.

"Feubler! Lunch is at the table! Why don't you take a break my son and eat?" His mother cheerily said. Feubler smiled. Life may demand that you work hard, but it was well worth it.

He stopped his task for a while, carefully putting all the vegetables he's harvested into the small hut where they kept all the goods before going into his home. He ate his share and reported back to his father everything he'd accomplished in the past hour. His father was pleased.

Of course, his father would've been out there helping him if it weren't from the injury he'd sustained from the time he was an Imperial soldier. He was basically crippled and had a hard time walking. Feubler understood; he'd had his fair share of injuries, and knew that an injury is never good, no matter how small.

He went back to his task after a few moments of sitting under his favorite tree. Whiterun's walls glowered brightly in the distance. Feubler concluded long ago that any attack from raiders or other _unwanted_ beings would be met with harsh resistance from the guards of Whiterun. They wouldn't let their territory be tainted with bad reputation of course. That and the fact that their family provided food for people helped the Jarl of Whiterun send people over immediately in case of an attack. And all Feubler and his family had to do was light up a big fire indicating an attack.

Feubler, well on his way to completing a fifth lane of cabbages, was suddenly interrupted from his musings by a bright flash of light that rendered him blind for a few moments. He fell down to the ground, screaming as his eyes burned from being exposed to the light. He heard the door to their house opening, and his younger brother of twelve running to him. His mother's worried voice soon followed, and then his father's.

"What happened?" He asked. It was obvious that he was panicking. But who wouldn't? A bright light suddenly puts your son down and said son screamed like a Nord woman in birth.

Of course, said scream sounded much like a Nord warrior going to battle.

Feubler rubbed his eyes, as the momentary pain he felt went away.

"By Sovngarde what happened?" He asked.

"That is what I would like to know. Was it raiders?" His father asked, eliciting a fearful whimper from his brother, causing his mother to hug him close.

"No. I don't think it was. It was some sort of magic. I just know it. But then again, mages have been known to side with some raiders." Feubler said. He wanted to stop saying they were being attacked by raiders. It made his brother scared.

But, who was he kidding? Raiders come out here all the time. He knew it was only a matter of time before they attacked and took everything.

"That settles that then. Get Thrair and your mother into the house. Get back here then with your sword, hurry!"

Feubler nodded and hurriedly went into the house with his brother and mother in tow. His father, even though crippled, could take care of himself. He'd seen him fight a bear with his sword, and he just knew he could handle a few raiders.

"Stay here and whatever you hear, do not come outside." He said, kneeling down to his brother and kissing him on the forehead. He smiled at him, "Protect mother okay kid?"

He nodded, but the look on his face suggested fear was still there.

He looked at his mother, and immediately went to his father, knowing that she got the message.

His father had his sword out, looking all around him, as if expecting them to come from everywhere. He couldn't blame him for looking a little comical; raiders have been known to use crude tactics in killing their victims.

"Should we light a signal fire?" He asked.

"Yes." His father said. "The more guards that are here, the bett-"

A loud moan of pain stopped all motion and sound. Both father and son stared at each wide eyed for a moment before another pained moan made them both turn to the source of the sound.

They nodded to each other, slowly approaching the source. It was behind one of the low stone walls that bordered the cabbages and carrots. They held their swords out, ready to slash and stab at anything that was hostile, when what they saw behind the wall made them both stop.

It was but a boy.

Blood ran down from his forehead to his white shirt. A lightning bolt shaped scar sat atop his forehead, just above the right eyebrow.

Feubler looked at his father, not knowing what to do. His father looked rather lost too, not expecting this.

Feubler finally managed to find his voice, "Father?"

"Get him to the house. Get him to the house. And treat his wounds, yes?" His father finally said. He was still wide eyed and breathing rather quickly. He sheathed his sword and turned around, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead.

Feubler just turned back to the injured boy, sheathing his sword and carrying back to the house, still unsure and confused of everything that happened.

_Hours before the Farm incident._

"Come on you stupid cunt! Get on with it yeah?"

Harry Potter would've laughed out loud at the taunting remark from his Godfather, if it hadn't been for the severity of the situation.

Bellatrix Lestrange let out a vicious growl as she stepped up her pace in casting spells, dark and not so dark, and the pair of wizards in front of her.

Sirius and Harry looked taken aback a bit by the speed in which she cast her spells, but immediately regained the foothold they had against her earlier.

"Stupefy!" Harry said, pointing his wand directly over the witch's heart.

She blocked it, followed it up with two killing curses that the two wizards just dodged.

Harry aimed at her feet, letting loose a quick 'Bombarda!'

This caught the ground in front of her, making her lose balance as rubble flew at her face. She looked stunned for a moment, and Sirius was quick to follow Harry's spell with a quick Stupefy straight to the face.

If she hadn't blocked it at least.

She let out a growl of frustration, slashing her wand sideways, which let out a visible cloud of wind that knocked Sirius and him to the ground. Twin Killing Curses left her wand, both of which Sirius and Harry dodged. It splattered harmlessly against the ground.

"New game plan pup." Sirius said, gritting his teeth as he blocked a stunning curse from Bellatrix.

"Yeah, I thought so too." Harry said, taking advantage of the momentary opening he had on Bellatrix when she sent a spell at Sirius.

The spell connected, surprisingly, and Bellatrix fell flat on her back once more.

Sirius looked at him, and said, "Well, good job pup. I alw-"

He was cut off as Bellatrix, again back with a vengeance, attacked with renewed vigor.

They blocked and dodged, and Sirius renewed his taunting regime, not quite focusing on the fight.

"Shite. Right well next time you knock her down, let's make sure she stays that way yeah?" Sirius said.

Harry only nodded in total agreement as he dodged a stray curse from somewhere in the fight surrounding them in the Department of Mysteries.

That was all Lestrange needed.

He was hit with a low powered Crucio that sent pain up and down his body. It wasn't like Voldemort's curse though; nowhere near it in fact. But that would be because of her sending it at him quite underpowered.

Sirius cursed her with a stunning spell, which broke the torture curse on Harry as she went to block the stunner. She screamed in rage, and Sirius, with a taunting remark on the tip of his tongue, never saw the stunner Bellatrix sent at him that if it connected, would've sent him straight into the veil.

Harry however, did. He ran towards him, 'Protego' on the tip of his tongue. He couldn't cast it however; as he was hit by the stunner well before he could even say the spell. The force sent him straight into Sirius, who landed on his backside on the floor.

Fighting in the room stopped as they watched Harry; still clutching his wand tightly in his hand, bounce slightly from the floor before rolling towards the mouth of the archway. The water-like mist of the archway was a menacing sight to behold as Harry clambered up to his feet, shrugging off the effects of the stunner.

Blood rolled down his head, soaking his shirt in a fine, red liquid. He was disoriented, swaying from left and right, and before anyone could react properly, Bellatrix, with a manic look in her eyes, a vicious smirk on her lips, sent a stunner at him.

Time slowed, and Sirius, still lying on his back, stared as the red beam of light flew above him. He arched his head backwards, looking at his still swaying godson. He would, from this day forth, never forget the look of horror on his godson's face as he saw the red beam.

It hit him squarely in the chest; his feet left the ground, upper body went backwards, right into the mist of the veil. He fell in.

Sirius screamed out in horror; same as almost everyone in the room that belonged to the light. Bellatrix, the newly revived Lucius, and the other Death Eaters looked on in glee. They screamed in triumph as the warriors of the light stared at them with rage filled eyes.

And thus, the battle was restarted.

Bellatrix was re-engaged by some other Order members, and within a few minutes of being on the defense, she sensed defeat and fled the scene, Sirius, Remus and Shacklebot following close behind.

Bellatrix laughed, the manic gleam in her eyes back in full force as she taunted Sirius.

Rage filled Sirius more, and in an act of extreme rage, stunned her silly. She flew off her feet and crashed straight into to the wall. When she slid down, a trail of blood remained on the wall.

"You think it's funny now? You bitch!"

She smiled up at him, laughing more insanely then before.

"Itsy bitsy Potter's dead! Lalalalala Potter's dead!" She said, a manic laugh following suit.

Sirius cried out in anguish, a look of anger on his face.

"I'll kill you! I'll kill you!"

Remus and Shacklebot stopped him from rushing to Bellatrix, as a gust of black cloud collected right in the middle of the atrium, and the form of pale, human man with snake like slits for nostrils stood before them.

It wasn't pain that a human usually wakes up to. It wasn't the feeling of a broken bone, a stinging wound, or an aching body that someone usually woke up to.

But that was not true for the boy that currently lied down in one of the beds inside the Stormbrewer home. He struggled to open his eyes, his brows scrunching up in pain as he coughed a bit.

A woman's voice echoed from somewhere to his left. "Thorin! Thorin he's awake!"

The sound of a door opening alerted the boy to a new person's presence.

Make that two people.

"Feubler, get the wet towel I've prepared in the kitchen." He heard an old voice say. The sound of footsteps were nearing him, but the boy continued to scrunch up his face in pain.

"You okay lad?" The man said.

The boy opened his eyes with great effort, allowing his eyes to adjust to the light in the room before replying.

"Water. Water please."

He nodded, and motioned for his wife who nodded and went out of the room.

"Where am I?" the boy asked.

"You're in my farm. Well actually you're in my home. We're just a few minutes out from Whiterun. Care to tell me what happened to you lad?" the man said.

"Whiterun? What's that?" he asked.

The old man looked surprised for a second, before a look of comprehension crossed his face.

"You must've hit the rock of the wall harder than I thought. Explains the amount of blood there. What do you remember lad?" He asked.

The boy scrunched up his face in concentration, which was a bit hard with all the pain he felt. He tried to remember something…anything actually. Images flashed in his head. There were images of a castle, an old man with a long beard, light that flew out from sticks, a girl with pink hair, and small creatures that looked like small demons and the like. They didn't provide any sort of useful information however, but suddenly, some information entered his mind.

"Harry. My names Harry Potter. I remember some stuff about magic, but that's all. That's all I remember, sorry." Harry said.

The man nodded and sighed out in relief. "Well that at least gives us something. Your name, Harry, it's not one from these lands. And judging by your looks, I think you're a Breton lad. You said something about magic? You must've come all the way from High Rock to study some magic in the College of Win-"

"Wait, I don't understand. I don't understand anything from what you're saying." Harry said, sitting up and ignoring the pain that shot up his body.

The old man looked confused for a second, before nodding in understanding.

"I guess I forgot what it felt like to not remember something. Look lad; you better get some rest for now. I don't think it wise to get out of bed for a while." He said.

Harry nodded, lying back down and closing his eyes as the old man's son and wife re-entered the room. He drank the water and laid the wet towel on his forehead as he allowed the coolness of the thing to calm his mind for a bit.

Where was he? Judging from what the old man said, he was somewhere near a place called Whiterun. He didn't know where that was. And what was up with the old man? From what he wore, Harry would've mistaken him for being from someone from the medieval era.

Medieval era? When was that?

Harry just shook his head as he felt a headache coming along.

It wasn't long before sleep took him.

It took a full two weeks for Harry to recover enough to allow him to walk. He remembered quite a few number of things in that span of time. One being a few spells, two being his wand, and three was the memory of a small battle taking place in a chamber of sorts. He couldn't remember much from the event, aside from himself fighting beside this black haired man.

Feubler, the son of Thorin (the old man who took him in) gave him his wand the day he remembered about it.

"I found it a couple of hours after we patched you up. It looked pretty important, what with the thing having intricate designs on it, so I kept it. I guess it really was important, it being your mage stuff after all." He remembered him saying.

He didn't understand why, but whenever he told Thorin and his family something about magic, he felt uncomfortable. He also had this inkling feeling telling him that he shouldn't tell them _anything _about magic. He just shrugged it off as something of a side effect of his condition.

There was another thing that bugged him though. He remembered doing tasks much more easily than how Thorin and their family did it. For instance, water. Harry remembered opening this cabinet looking thing to fetch some water, or getting it from a device that stored it. Thorin and his family however, used a river nearby to drink.

He was very confused, but soon, he adapted to the new way of life, and soon forgot his woes about how Thorin and his family did things.

A few more days passed, and Harry recovered fully. He wanted to remember now, and he focused his mind to do so. It yielded nothing however, and raised more questions than answers.

And he wanted answers.

And so he asked Thorin for help one day.

"Thorin, sir." Harry said.

"Yes lad?" he said.

"It's not that I don't enjoy your hospitality and such, but, I'd like to remember things. One being who I truly am and where I came from and what I did. But, you know how bad my situation is. I don't even know of what Whiterun is, who the Jarl is (in fact, Harry didn't even know what a Jarl was) and where Skyrim or High Rock is. Nor of the elves and the war with the Empire." He said rather hurriedly.

Thorin laughed a hearty laugh and looked at Harry. "In short, you need help lad."

Harry smiled back at him and nodded.

Thorin motioned for him to follow, and Harry did so. They walked out to the farm, where they saw Feubler and his brother planting some new seeds.

"Harry, I can't even begin to tell you how odd you are. From your clothes and name to your still as of yet unknown past, you are an odd fellow."

Harry grimaced a bit at this. He knew very well how out of place he was.

"Don't worry lad. I'll help you. Let's start with this. Whenever someone asks who you are, never, ever tell them Harry Potter. The first time I heard that spur from your mouth I had half a mind to go and get guards from Whiterun to arrest you. Odd names such as yours can get a lot of people interested in you, and a lot more fearing you. In these times, where it seems that the elves control Skyrim, Nords from across the land are paranoid, and often times even the most absurd things can be the cause of someone's death."

Harry nodded grimly at this.

"Start using Breton names lad, cause you look like one. I advice using the name Ulrich. It is not a common name for Breton's here in Skyrim, which, I think, would help you in a number of ways." He said.

Harry furrowed his brows, confused.

"Just go with my advice lad. Anyway, the fact that you can do magic, even though your way is most unusual, suggests that you've studied in the College of Winterhold. Luckily, if my guess is correct, your unusual way of performing magic is something new taught to mages these days. But even I doubt that."

Harry nodded at that. Feubler could do a bit of magic, and his way was…different. Okay, who was he kidding? His way was VASTLY different from his way. The first time he heard the Feubler could do magic, he was filled with hope that someone may now be able to help him completely. The different way he performed his magic shattered the hope completely.

"So I advice you, go to Winterhold and to the college. If you are in fact, a student there, then they can help you. But if not, then I know not what else to say. Just know that our doors are open to you. I've already instructed Feubler to prepare a pack for you. We've filled it with food and canteens of water. I've also spared 100 septims for you. It should last you quite a good number of meals should you ever consume all the supplies I've given you."

Harry just didn't know what to say. These people barely knew him and yet, they helped him so much!

Thorin smiled at him. "I only wished I could come with you lad, but I have a bad leg. Feubler might be able to come, but I'm afraid I can't spare his services to you. The road to Winterhold is filled with dangers even Imperial Guards and elves can't completely stop. I cannot risk my son. Even though I admit that you feel like a son to me now, I know you have your own way."

Harry bit back a sob. Something in Thorin's admittance to him feeling like a son to him hit Harry hard. And he didn't even know why. Instead, he threw on a face of determination, and nodded to the man.

"You can leave tomorrow if you want. Just understand me when I say that the road ahead of you will be hard."

Harry nodded, and said. "I shall go tomorrow then."

Thorin nodded back, and went back inside his house, with Harry following a few minutes later.

**A/N: So how was it? Is it good? Review guys! **

**So anyway, if you like it and felt it was too short, forgive me but I felt it best to cut it short. The next chapter hopefully would be of the beginning of Harry's adventure. **

**I'd like to point out some things now: **

**I've planned to get this story to last at least 30 chapters. It'll play out like a LOTR story, only with a bit more battle, fantasy, and magic to the side. This is the first of what I believe would be a two step story for Harry. One to explore his time in Skyrim, and another story to explore his return. **

**So with that in mind, I'd like to thank you for taking the time to read this! Oh and criticism is nice! Long as you're just being honest of course! **

**REVIEW!**


	2. A Perilous Adventure

**CHAPTER 2**

**A Perilous Adventure**

"So, you've got everything you need?"

"Yes."

"Remember, you've three canteens of water in there,"

"Yep."

"There's some sweetrolls in the side pockets of yer pack,"

"Yeah."

"And there's a small knife in there too, case you need to cut the ham we've packed,"

"Ok."

"There be some loaves of bread in there too, so yo-"

"Thorin," Harry finally said, beaming brightly up at the old man. "I get it. You got me everything I'll need." He smiled up at him. "Thank you for that. Once I find out what I need, I'll be sure to come back here and thank you once more."

Thorin nodded, smiling back down at him. The lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead was like a testament, a sign to anyone who sees it of a great warrior. But Thorin knew otherwise. The slim, okay, very slim, body of the owner of the scar did not look like a body of a warrior at all. A thief or a bandit maybe; but not a warrior. Even Thorin knew that there were certain physical qualifications for a mage. He just hoped that Harry was one of the small percentage of people that were naturally attuned to their magic.

"Yes yes." He finally said. "Now, go. The earlier you get on with your quest, the faster you solve your problem."

Harry nodded to him, feeling woefully sad all of a sudden. Feubler, his brother and his mother stood behind their father, watching with sad smiled on their faces. Feubler stepped forward, and embraced Harry in a one-armed hug.

"For the short time we've known each other, I've felt as if you're my brother now. Which I agree with Thrair here, isn't such a bad thing." He said, smiling at Harry.

"Indeed." Harry said, beaming happily at Thrair.

"Oh, before you leave, I wanted to give you this." Feubler handed him…well, something. And suddenly, something snapped into his mind.

"My glasses!" Harry said suddenly, taking the object from Feubler's hands.

"I found it earlier near where you appeared. I don't know what it does really, just that when I looked through the glass of the frames, my vision went blurry." Feubler said.

Harry knew why that happened. The glasses was a device used to correct his vision; why he didn't need to wear it now, he knew not. So instead of responding to Feubler's unasked question, Harry merely shook his head and shrugged.

"We'll all find out answers soon enough." He said.

"Aye, indeed. Now go my friend. You have a long journey ahead of you. It'd be best if you head over to Whiterun first. I know they have carriages that take people to the different towns and cities all across Skyrim. It should at least make your travels shorter and safer." Feubler said.

Harry nodded in acceptance, and walked away, never once looking back. He couldn't, not when he knew that it'd weaken his resolve to finish his quest. He followed the path Thorin and Feubler pointed out to him, circling the outer wall of Whiterun as he neared the path to the entrance. Within half an hour, he saw the Whiterun stables, just outside of the gates.

He approached the front door of the stable, knocking a little shyly.

It opened, revealing a man wearing brown farmer clothes and a hat. He raised a brow at Harry.

"Hail stranger. Looking to buy a horse? Best to talk to my father, Skulvar. He's by the horse's houses." He said.

Harry shook his head. "No. I'm heard of a carriage here that could take me to Winterhold."

"Ah. So it does. Jervar's me name. I'm a friend of the driver of the carriage. The transport to Winterhold will cost ya a nice 20 septims. The journey begins tomorrow and sunrise."

Harry grimaced a bit at that news. "Tomorrow? Don't you have something for today?"

Jervar crossed his hands over his chest. "We're fully booked, stranger. You want to leave earlier? Talk to the old man about buying a horse. Other than that stranger, you stick with the schedule."

Harry pursed his lips. He shook his head a bit at his misfortune.

Jervar took a little bit of pity on him and clapped him on the shoulder. "Look lad, if someone decides they don't want to ride to Winterhold this coming afternoon, then I'll send a messenger for you. If not, then I'd say you have rotten luck."

Harry nodded. At least that was something. He left the stable, thanking Jervar and heading straight towards the gates. Two guards stood outside, looking as menacing as the time Harry saw Thorin's wife angry.

"Hail, stranger!"

Harry put on a calm face, and replayed the short rehearsals he had with Feubler and Thorin for situations with guards such as these.

He raised his hands, showing them he had no weapons.

"I just came here to catch a ride on the carriage to Winterhold. It seems that the ride scheduled for today is full." Harry said.

"Ah. Yes, carriages do that sometimes."

The guard let him pass through, and Harry was greeted with the site of a long beautiful road with huge stores and houses to the side.

"Wow."

The unmistakable sounds of a blacksmith making a new weapon entered Harry's ears. He approached the source of the sound, tilting his head to the side as he watched the…_woman?_

"_Well, this is a bit surprising." _Harry thought. The woman was thin, and Harry almost ran up to her as she heaved what appeared to be a very heavy hammer high above her head, before bringing it down to smite the red hot metal on what must've been an anvil.

The woman took notice of Harry's rather worried state, and snorted loudly.

"Men." She said under her breath.

Harry however, heard it and immediately recoiled.

"Sorry. It was just that I thought-"

"That I couldn't handle it? You men always think the same. Just because I'm a woman-" at this, she raised her unfinished sword and raised it threateningly at Harry. "Doesn't mean that I can't handle jobs that MEN. USUALLY. DO!"

Harry actually had the decency to stumble backwards a bit, unable to say his apologies. After a few moments of looking like a fish, Harry regained his composure and said, "I apologize. That wasn't what I was thinking at all. I just thought you needed some help."

"Well obviously, I don't." She said, still raising the sword.

Harry raised her hands in a non-threatening manner. "Look, I'm sorry milady if my actions caused you to think so low of me. But I had my mind is not filled with the thoughts that you think I have."

She just rolled her eyes. "Fine. I'll accept that…for now at least. Now what do you want lad? Ain't seen someone as young as you walking alone here in Whiterun. You look like a traveler." She said, nodding to the pack on Harry's back.

"I've learned from an early age how to depend on my own. Don't think my age is a hurdle with what I want milady." Harry said, smiling. "Anyway, do you know of anywhere I might be able to get some rest? An inn perhaps?" He said.

The girl looked at him curiously before shrugging. "You'd want to go ahead and visit the Bannered Mare. It's in the market area, shouldn't be too hard to miss. You can get a drink there too, if you looking for pint. Though I don't see how someone so young-"

Before she could finish her sentence, Harry nodded, smiled, and spoke up. "Thanks for all the help madam." He walked away, not really interested in hearing her rant about how young he was. From what Thorin had told him, he looked like he was 16. His small frame however (He heard Thorin and his wife talk about it, saying it was a lack of eating or something) suggested that he was younger than his actual age.

Well, no matter. Thorin and his family were a bit wealthy, and patched Harry right up with the proper potions. He got taller in the short amount of time he's spent with their family, however small the change. He got a bit fat too.

He walked to the direction the lady pointed at, and found himself in the middle of a market place. It was a bit noisy, due to the number of people buying freshly harvested fruits and vegetables. There were even some freshly killed chickens for sale.

"Oy!" He heard someone say.

He turned to the direction of the voice.

A burly man stood in the middle of the market, pointing towards a boy, no older than Harry was, running up the street quickly.

"Somebody stop that thief! Come back here!" The man said, running after the boy himself.

Harry wanted to go help, but thought better of it. He had his pack on, and it was heavy. No sense going after someone who was quick when you were slow yourself, a fact proven by the burly man as he slowly ran after the boy. Plus, it wasn't his problem at the moment. The guards would sort this out.

He went back to the task he had at hand, and looked at the building in front of him. There was a sign at the side, which read _The Bannered Mare. _

_Right. This is my stop I guess?_

He entered the inn, and was a bit surprised to find the amount of people there. Big muscled people of all shapes, sizes, and gender seemed to adorn every square inch of the inn, singing merrily of songs which told of great battles and drinking ale and mead to their hearts content.

He sighed heavily as he made his way out.

_Guess I'll have to go back in there later; when there are less people. _He thought gloomily. He sat down on the steps in front of the inn, removing his pack from his back as he did so. He set it down beside him and slouched, at a loss as to what to do now.

_I haven't even 'truly' started my adventure, and already I'm at a loss. _

"Hey!" He heard someone whisper.

He turned around, looking for the source of the voice, but found no one aside from the people in the markets. He decided to ignore it for now, passing it off as his imagination.

But no.

"Hey! You! You ponce!"

Harry's head perked up at this, and he stood up, looking around for the voice with renewed gusto.

"In the bushes you stupid Breton!"

Harry looked towards the bushes, and raised a brow, showing obvious signs of confusion.

"Who're you?" He asked. '_Great, I'm talking to bushes now. Someone must've slipped skooma in my morning meal. Thorin's wife did say that this is how skooma affects the people.'_

"Why don't you come closer and I'll tell you yeah?" the voice said.

And stupidly enough, he did.

What transpired next would be what you called 'kidnapping.'

Harry was hit right to the head something, and knocked straight into blissful sleep. He fell straight into the bushes, where he was bound and gagged next, and was very discretely taken to…well, somewhere.

For the second time since he lost his memory, Harry woke up in pain. It wasn't as painful when he woke up at Thorin's farm, but it was close.

"He's awake. Call Moran."

The sounds of heavy feet walking away echoed loudly.

"Easy there, smooth skin. The blow V'tas gave to your head was heavier than any of us expected."

Harry gave a dull reply, which came out more like groan of pain.

The voice laughed. "You humans are so easily injured."

And at that, Harry just had to open his eyes.

He looked straight at the source of the voice, and but back a scream.

In front of him was a human-like lion! Thorin told him all about the different races and monsters in Tamriel, but seeing one of these races for himself was a bit frightening! Screw that…IT WAS HORRIFYING.

His reaction made the man-lion laugh louder.

"Sight to behold smooth-skin? Have you not seen more of my kind?" He said, smiling, or what appeared to be a smile anyway, at Harry.

"O-Of course." Harry lied. "It's just that, seeing you, here, in a dark cave, with me; forgive me for thinking that you might eat me or something."

A loud chorus of laughter filled the dark, damp cave as three people and one more 'man-lions' walked. The man-lion he was speaking to sneered at the people, giving out a growl worthy of a lion.

A man with blonde hair walked forward.

"Silence, all of you." He commanded, the deepness of his voice prompted everyone to do so. "Can you not see that our…_guest_… is confused?" He asked. He chuckled a bit darkly for Harry's liking, before he looked at him with a menacing look.

"Allow me to explain then, _prisoner!"_Harry felt fear at that. "I've heard from my lookouts of strange happenings in the Stormbrewer farm!"

Harry's eyes widened.

'_NO!' _He mentally shouted.

"There were tales of great magical feats being performed there. I did not believe it until I saw it with my very two eyes. Knowing Thorin's children, I simply could not believe that any of them could perform high levels of magic!"

Harry's fear lessened a bit at that. At least now he knew that they had the knowledge that he was the one to perform all of those magic, and thus, it was him they want.

'_Oh joy.' _He thought rather dryly.

"I was right." The man continued on. "It was _you._ Thought how you did any of what I saw, I do not know."

The man leaned down towards Harry, looking straight in the eye. He held a vicious smirk, one that sent chills up Harry's bones.

"But I care not. You want the Stormbrewer's lives to continue?" He asked.

Harry, without pause, nodded grimly.

"Then you will do as I tell you. You'll help me with my quest, lest you want to find Thorin's head lying on the floor next time you wake."

Harry gulped, too confused to say anything.

"Take him to the cells!"

Harry couldn't believe his luck. He was only looking for a ride to Winterhold for Sovngarde's sake. That was all he wanted! But it seems like the Gods want nothing more than for him to suffer. He grumbled a bit as the prisoner who sat next to him whimpered in fear as the wolves the bandits kept started howling wildly.

He turned his attention to the other prisoners who shared the same fate with him.

There was Argon, a hunter four years older than him. Kidnapped from his home in Riverwood for his 'skills' in Archery, Harry learned that he was also tasked with helping these bandits with whatever their 'quest' was.

Then there was Dar'asha, a Khajiit, or as Harry liked to call them, man-lions. She was the only female of the prisoners, and was chosen for her skills as a thief.

And lastly, there was the sorry excuse for a Nord called Duin. Apparently, he was a thief like Dar'asha once. Unlike her however, Duin was a complete coward, taking only from people he knew couldn't catch him, or couldn't defend themselves against his murdering characteristic.

Now he was but a shattered shell of his former self, the doing of being held prisoner under a cave for a long duration of time.

"Are you alright Ulrich?" Dar'asha asked.

Harry nodded. He knew they were concerned for him. He WAS the youngest after all.

"Yeah. I just…what do these bandits want?"

She smiled sadly at Harry.

"Your guess is as good as mine. Whatever it is, I don't like it."

Harry agreed with her there. Whatever bandits wanted you to do wasn't ever a good thing, or at least that's what Feubler told him.

The light of a torch suddenly illuminated the cell they were in, and revealed a very muscular man with brown hair…or as Harry liked to call him; Warden.

Two other burly men stood behind them; all of them had vicious smirks.

"Well let's go my _friends._ Hajvarr says it's time." The man holding the torch said, smiling menacingly.

They put black sacks of cloth over their heads and chained their arms and legs together before they made them walk. It was a hard thing, walking without seeing. Harry stumbled one too many times, earning him vicious blows to his side. He just mentally wished that his wand was still safe in the secret pocket of his pants; he wasn't able to use it in the cell, due to his hands being chained to the ground. A 'safety precaution' as Hajvarr put it, due to him being able to do magic and all.

It wasn't long before they to where they were taking them, and by that time, Harry and others were grimacing a bit as their sides hurt due to the beatings they acquired from their esteemed 'warden.'

The sacks on their heads were removed, and Harry had to blink a few times to let his eyes adjust.

Hajvarr sat on a chair before them, his armor reflecting the light of the candle on the table.

"Ah, my friends!" He said, rising from his chair. "How are you all?"

It was a rhetorical question, and everyone knew that. But Argon simply didn't care.

"Oh, we're golden." He said. "We got beat up on the way here by your boy-wonder there." He said, nodding to the 'warden.'

Hajvarr backhanded him hard across the face, making him fall down to the ground.

"Don't you dare talk when I'm speaking, _Boy."_

Harry narrowed his gaze a bit at that. Foggy memories of his concerning that word in the exact same manner in which it was said stirred something inside him. He clamped down hard on his emotions, not wanting to be on the floor like Agron before him.

"As I was _saying,_" Hajvarr said, sneering at them all this time. "You are my chosen ones: the people that I've handpicked to lead this little _expedition_ of mine. Do as I say and your families will be safe, I guarantee that." He said, as if expecting us to understand.

"Don't do what I say, and you'll be going home to a burning corpse."

He could feel Dar'asha shudder a bit beside him, and Duin whimper a bit. Argon still lay by their feet, wheezing in anger.

"Now, details details…" He turned his back to them, grabbing a map from the table, before throwing it away and grabbing another. "Ah, here we are. The lost map to Bleak Falls Barrow."

Argon gasped slightly beneath them, and Hajvarr looked at him closely.

"Yes. You heard me right lad. Do your job quickly, and you'll be right to your home much faster." He said, smiling at them all this time.

"Let's see here…ah, yes. You see, Bleak Falls Barrow has been a place long since feared by adventurers across Tamriel, due to the nature of explorers coming in, but never coming out." He smiled brightly at them. "Whispers of a treasure long buried under the mountain by the builders of Bleak Falls Barrow has everyone's attention, and thus, it prompted ill-fated explorers to come in, but as I said, they never got out."

Harry gulped. So they were all going on a suicide mission? That couldn't be good.

"But there are no treasures. Those who survived exploring that place only reported of a door which could never be opened without a key. And as of yet, no key has been found." Dar'asha said.

Hajvarr leaned closer to her, cupping her feline cheeks in his hands, to which she moved away, growling a bit. The crazy man simply laughed and spoke once more,

"That indeed is the tale. But I ask you this; did they have a map?" He asked them.

All of the prisoners simply looked confused.

Hajvarr laughed once more. "My friends, what all those dead explorers lacked was a map. They had the knowledge and the skill, sure, but they didn't have a map." He beamed brightly at them. "I have a map! And you're going to help me find the treasure!"

And so, it began.

They walked for hours upon hours, never stopping even as the stars filled the sky and sun went down. The breaths they took soon started to become smoke as they trudged up a path that took them higher on the mountain. They passed by a tower, which had Hajvarr's men there, waiting.

The men joined them, boosting the men Hajvarr had with him to 12, and lowering the prisoner's chance for escape. Not that they could anyway. There simply was too much at stake. There families were at stake. Well for Harry at least, his friend's family was at stake.

The howling of the wolves set everyone on edge, and even the simplest hoot of an owl would elicit the accidental firing of an arrow. Harry himself had half a mind to whip out his wand and start cursing all that would make a scary sound.

They trudged up the mountain, and soon enough, they climbed a huge set of steps that led onto a platform riddled with many archways. Duin started to cry fat tears, too scared out of his wits to continue, and the female Khajiit and Argon started to sway side to side nervously.

Harry himself was scared, but showed none of it. Thorin taught him to never be scared in Skyrim, as fear could get you killed.

So instead, he moved to the other side of the platform whilst the Bandits were busy talking to themselves. Escaping now would be futile, as he couldn't risk getting Thorin's family killed. They'd done nothing wrong in this situation.

He could see a vast forest before him, and a river flowing right below. He followed it to the left, and saw dim lights of what looked like a town.

"Riverwood…my home." Argon suddenly said beside him.

Harry looked at him, and saw sadness on his face. Perhaps he and Dar'asha knew too what the risks were if they tried to escape prematurely.

"I was take three days ago you know? I wonder what mother would say; I wonder how she feels right now. My father left us when we were young, and I had to learn how to fight to defend my family in case bandits such as they come trying to raid us. I learned through the only Imperial Soldier living in town." He said, rather sadly.

Harry didn't know what to say, so he replied with his life story so far (excluding his forgotten past, and the fact that he forgot them).

"I was staying with a friend's family in their farm near Whiterun. I was about to ride the carriage going to Winterhold, when the bandits took me. I can't even believe they got me so easily." Harry said; irritation clearly in his voice.

Before they could speak further, the bandits called them over.

It was time to go in.

_Creaaakkkk._

The sound of the double doors to the ancient Nord structure echoed loudly in the empty hall of the temple. Footsteps and sounds of blades being unsheathed soon followed as the bandits and prisoners entered.

Duin was killed not long ago, his cowardice proving too great for Hajvarr.

Harry was unfortunate enough to bear witness to the beheading of Duin. He almost threw up in his mouth, had it not been for his empty stomach. They were all given swords, so that they 'wouldn't be useless' in Hajvarr's endeavor to find this lost 'treasure' Harry thought it was bloody useless, as he didn't know how to use a sword. He held onto it anyway, fearing that he may just have to swing it wildly around when they encountered anything he didn't like. Of course, he still had his magic, so his fears were alleviated a bit.

Argon and Dar'asha were not so fortunate to have knowledge on magic. Although Dar'asha was older than both Argon and Harry, she did not possess the experience necessary to handle the 'Draugr' Hajvarr and his men advised them to watch out against. Argon and Harry more so.

They trudged into the hall silently, the seven guards Hajvarr left outside watching their backs.

Eight bandits plus Hajvarr himself and the three prisoners circled the hall, weapons out, ready to do anything. They were being cautious, which at this point, was not a bad thing.

Hajvarr brought out his map, sheathing his sword as he did so.

"Let's see…" He mumbled, before looking at Dar'asha. "You! Start being useful!" He said, thrusting the map towards the female Khajiit.

Dar'asha growled in frustration, taking the map from the bandit leader. She looked at it, and her face scrunched up in confusion.

"Your map here shows of a hidden passage behind this wall," she said, pointing to the wall to the left of the hall. "If that is what you've taken me for, than it is a waste of my talents don't you think?" She asked rhetorically.

Hajvarr laughed. "No. Your usefulness does not end there. Find whatever it is that moves this wall aside. Quickly!" He said.

Dar'asha merely growled and began her search. Harry and Argon followed suite to help her as Hajvarr and his bandits conversed silently with one another.

It was the female Khajiit who found the latch (though that was expected) and the wall suddenly moved aside as the inhabitants of the hall took their first glimpse of the hidden passage. The walls of the hall were adjourned with rotting tombs. This hallway continued on and on and on. Ancient torches on the walls suddenly sparked to life with fires that illuminated the hallway, showing that it extended forward for a short space before you had to go down a narrow staircase leading to who knows where.

Hajvarr beamed happily, the gloominess of the hallway aside.

"Right then. You two," he said, pointing to two bandits, "You take point. Oh don't give me that look, we'll be right behind you. Come, let's go."

They trudged on, ignoring the threatening stares the dead bodies were supposedly giving them. The three prisoners were kept in the middle of the pack, with two bandits in front of them, and the other six plus Hajvarr were in the back.

They were walking down the staircase now, wiping beads of sweat on their foreheads as the temperature grew higher. There was some sort of light at the very bottom of the stairs; it illuminated the chamber it was in a bizarre, yellow-red light.

The heat was now becoming unbearable. Drops of sweat started to fall off their faces, landing on the ground below; but Hajvarr did not care. He had his eyes set on the 'treasure,' and it looks like it would most likely get them all killed. It didn't matter what the prisoner's opinions were, all that mattered was what Hajvarr and his bandits thought. And frankly, for the bandits, as long as they got the treasure, a little bit of heat was nothing.

Finally, they managed to reach the end of the stairs, arriving in a small chamber, whose walls bore carvings of unknown meaning. There was a red ruby in the middle; it gave of a light that appeared as if it were as bright as the sun. To all those in the chamber, it was like eye candy; everyone's eyes were fixated to it, wanting to go forth and touch it- to take it.

But not to Harry. He sensed something evil about the ruby, and, acting on his instincts, he whipped his wand out. Nobody seemed to notice as he took a cautious stance; sword in his left hand, his wand in the right.

"The treasure!" Hajvarr said, beaming happily. "You! Go! Go get it!" He screamed.

The bandit didn't even falter for a second as walked forward to get the ruby.

"No! Don't!" Harry screamed.

But it was too late.

As soon as the bandits fingertips touched the ruby, he let out a scream that sent everyone out of their reverie as they watched him collapse to the ground, holding his hands as his body suddenly caught on fire. Several other bandits ran to help him, but beams of pure energy, courtesy of the ruby, shot forth at them, instantly turning them into a fine black powder.

Harry ran forward to his fellow prisoners, and shielded them all from a beam shot by the ruby. The beam sent Harry crashing backwards into his friends, and he landed on the floor flat on his back with a thud. Argon and Dar'asha were in the same state, both grunting in pain.

The bandits around them tried to make way for the exit, only to get shot by beams of energy, turning them into a fine black powder.

Harry saw Hajvarr as he escaped.

_Lucky sod._ He thought.

There were two bandits who were able to walk out with him, screaming loudly on their way.

A wall suddenly went down from the ceiling, blocking the way to the stairs. Twins beams of energy struck his friends, and for a moment, Harry thought that they would be dead. But they didn't disintegrate, they were only knocked unconscious.

_Who dares enter MY chamber? _

Harry gulped a bit as he heard the deep voice echo from everywhere all at once.

He decided to answer.

"I-it is I-I. U-Ulrich Stargazer." Thorin's advice still lingered in his mind.

"I sense that is a lie." Harry gulped harder. "But it matters not. For your name, I care not to know. Your magic is all I want."

_By Sovngarde, I am in trouble._

_Your demise can wait. What are you doing here, in my prison? This prison is a grave for all who dwell in it._

Harry remained silent; too scared to move. His friends lay before his feet, unconscious from whatever this…thing had done to them.

_Worry not. They are not dead. But you soon will be._

Harry gulped. "S-surely you don't mean that. Who are you?" Harry asked, feeling awfully foolish for his question.

Whatever it was laughed a slow laugh that made Harry even more scared.

_Me? My name is Ybbod. Greatest Nord warrior to ever walk the lands of Skyrim. None can win against me in combat._

"T-then what d-do you w-want form us?" Harry asked.

_You've released me from my prison. However foolish your actions were, I must thank you. But I ask forgiveness, for I have not feasted in a long time. I am in need of meat._

"Y-you can't d-do that." Harry said, rather desperately too.

_AND WHY NOT? Foolish human, just because I once was one, doesn't mean I am now! Now, die!_

"Protego Maxima!" Harry screamed. That wasn't one of the spells he remembered in his time with Thorin, but boy was he glad he remembered it now.

The beam of light sent forth by the ruby to the three of them hit hard on Harry's huge shield. Said wizard was forced to his knees as he struggled to maintain his hold on the shield, and on the magic beam being shot by the ruby.

The ruby blasted away at him unrelentlessly, and Harry felt his energy quickly waning him.

_No! Please no! _

But then he noticed something; lines of light seemed to be coming from the pedestal where the ruby was, going straight up into the ruby. And if Harry's assumption was right, then there was something else powering that ruby up, and was using said ruby only as a medium for the power.

His friends started to stir, and Harry regained his hope, fighting ever harder against the beams sent his way.

Argon was the first to take notice of the situation, and quickly went to Dar'asha's side to wake her.

"Wake up! Ulrich needs help!" He yelled, causing the Khajiit to stand up immediately.

"Ulrich!" She screamed.

"Can't talk right now…need you to distract him a bit." Harry said, beads of sweat rolling down his face.

"Oka-" Argon was cut off from Dar'asha cutting him off.

"What do you need done?" she said.

"When I break my shield, you need to attract his attention for a while. Argon, you're with me. When you got his attention, I'll do the rest." He said.

She nodded, and unsheathed the knives Hajvarr had given her.

Argon quickly readied his sword, ready for anything crazy idea Harry had.

"One…Two…NOW!"

Harry lifted his wand upwards as a massive beam was sent at him. He broke the connection as soon it hit the shield, sending out a massive wave of energy that shook the chamber they were in.

Dar'asha suddenly leapt sideward, throwing her knives to the ruby they were facing off against. The two knives splattered harmlessly against the ruby; and just like Harry planned, it fired back at her with the beams. She thankfully dodged the first beam, and then another.

But Harry wouldn't leave her in that situation for long. He aimed his wand at the pedestal, and with a mighty intake of breath, he shouted "REDUCTO!"

The bright blue beam hit the pedestal head on, blowing it up into pieces. Small pieces of rock went flying everywhere, and the three prisoners had to cover their faces as the small debris splattered against their clothes.

There was suddenly a calm silence, before the red light in the room was suddenly replaced by a blue hue, and a mighty explosion blew them all off their feet. The sound of crumbling rock was all they heard, before they all fell into a large hole the explosion created.

Harry just closed his eyes as they fell. They fell maybe what? 10 feet? He didn't know. All that registered in his mind was the pain he felt when he slammed straight into the hard ground. He grunted in pain, and some part of his mind took notice of two other pained grunts.

He quickly clambered up to his feet, suddenly aware of the heavy footsteps of many adversaries making their way to them. He gripped his sword tightly, as he held his wand in his left hand.

Argon and Dar'asha stood up as well, with the former limping a bit.

Inhuman screams caught their attention, and as one they knew what it was.

_Draugr. _

They went back to back, leaving no side of theirs exposed as the sounds of Draugr running towards them grew closer. The cavern they were in held little to no light; aside from the blue light in the distance, there was nothing else to illuminate the walls brightly.

"Ulrich, we need a bit of light now." He heard Argon say.

Harry nodded, muttering 'Lumos' as he did so.

And so there was light. Argon looked at him strangely, and so did the Khajiit beside him, but they shrugged their heads and concentrated back to not getting killed by the undead.

A scream at the darkest corner of the cavern prompted Harry to point his wand at it, illuminating the dark corner.

And just like that, out came Draugr, running wildly at them.

"Stupefy!" Harry said.

It hit the Draugr straight to the head, making it stagger backwards slightly.

It lifted its head and looked at Harry' with expressionless eyes before a look of anger crossed its dead face. It merely shrugged of Harry's stunner and ran to him once more.

Harry gasped, scared, before he swung his sword around, hoping to catch it.

And it did. The sword embedded itself deep into the Draugr's left side, going straight through its right arm. The undead Nord looked at the sword in its side, before looking up at Harry.

It screamed.

Harry screamed as well, and as it raised its sword high above its head, intending to chop Harry's head off, Argon removed the last remaining arm of the dead Nord, and proceeded to chop its head off.

"What're you doing?" He said, raising his arms as if he was exasperated.

"I'm not a warrior. In case you haven't noticed, I'm a mage."

"Then start acting like one and burn these dead Nords!" He screamed, as he charged at an undead Draugr behind Harry.

Harry looked around, and found that the undead were in fact, charging them from all sides. Both the Khajiit and the Nord showed excellent skills with swords; they stabbed and slashed at anything they see.

Harry took a moment to take in the spectacle in front of him, before he spurred back into action.

"REDUCTO! BOMBARDA! INCENDIO!"

The first two spells removed two undead immediately from the picture, before the fire spell he cast burned four.

"That's more like it!" Argon shouted, smiling at Harry.

Harry nodded to him, before repeating his trio of spells against the Draugr. He would catch Dar'asha and Argon giving him curious looks when they could, but Harry put this up as one of the reaction Thorin said people would give him once they found out his strange way of doing magic. This was why he instructed Harry to use magic only whenever necessary.

The number of undead seemed to only increase as they fought their way towards the bright blue light. They were only kept at a safe distance due to Harry's spells, at the wizard was quickly tiring out.

"IMMOBILUS!" He shouted.

A purple light shot from his wand like a gunshot, and suddenly, every Draugr in front of him started to run super slow motion. He cast the spell two more times, this time pointing at Argon's and Dar'asha's side of things.

"Confringo!" The yellow beam hit a Draugr head on.

It blew up in a light show of fire, burning and killing the surrounding Draugr around it. He repeated the process on the rest of the Draugr, and pretty soon, they were left with a cave filled with burning and dead bodies.

Harry sat down on the ground, breathing quite heavily as covered his face with his bloodied hands. The adrenaline slowly wore off; and he cried.

Dar'asha walked towards him and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. Argon just stood at their side, looking thoroughly perplexed. He had questions, but they could be answered later.

"Shh. There now young one. It's alright. No one can escape tears when they threaten to fall. Especially not after killing something; even if it is undead." Dar'asha said, hugging the boy close.

Harry only nodded, and moved away from the hug, wiping away his tears as he did so. He sniffed, but in a few minutes, he was okay.

"So…you mind telling us just what you did?" Argon finally asked.

Harry sent him a questioning look.

"The way you just did magic; that stick of yours." He said, looking at Harry's wand.

Harry sighed, and began telling all the information he could tell about his magic. He didn't tell them about his forgotten memories; oh no, that would be disastrous.

Argon flashed Harry's wand a hungry look, his curiosity getting the best of him.

"So your wand, you said you only had to say the right incantations, and it'll do what you want?" He asked.

Harry saw the look, and was quick to crush his hopes with a memory he'd been replaying in his mind over and over again since remembering it.

"Yes. But I'd imagine you'd be hard pressed to find a wand that suits you."

Argon looked up at him. "What do you mean?"

"I know what you want Argon. But I'm telling you now: the wand chooses its master. Not the other way around. You'd be wasting your time trying to get my wand to work with yourself." Harry said. At least, that's what he understood from his memory. It was of him as a boy, buying the wand in a shop. The memory was foggy, even downright unintelligible in some parts, but it showed the owner finding different wands for him, until finally, a wand chose him.

Or at least, that was what the spooky white haired man told him.

Argon looked ashamed for a moment, before nodding his head.

"Yes, yes. I'm sorry. I don't know what came over m-"

_Ah, but you do._

Harry's eyes widened, and so did the eyes of his companions. The voice was back.

_Argon, you do. Come now, you really think this…boy is capable of wielding such a weapon? He can't even use a sword to save his own life. _

"Don't listen to it Argon!" Dar'asha said.

_Imagine what you could do with it Argon! Imagine what your family would say, when Skyrim hails you as its greatest warrior for all time!_

Argon's eyes became glazed as he stared at the wand with a renewed intensity.

_Take it Argon. Take your sword and KILL HIM!_

Argon finally screamed, intending to do just as the voice told him.

"EXPELLIARMUS! STUPEFY!" Harry said.

Argon was knocked back quite a few feet before he stopped, unconscious.

_Tsk. Now look at that, Khajiit._

Now it looked like it was going after Dar'asha, who was looking around in search of the voice.

_He attacked Argon when all he wanted was a little recognition. Surely there's nothing wrong with that? This boy is selfish, and you hate the selfish don't you? That's why you steal, isn't it? Throw your daggers at him!_

Before she could do anything, Harry stunned her. He was taking no chances.

_Ah. The mage who owns a powerful medium! Hello, hello! You're terribly alone now aren't you? You've betrayed both of them! How terrible. Come now, you know no one will accept you! Not with you having a mysterious past, and you being so powerful! Oh no no! No one will take you in! You know Thorin only took you in because of his pity towards you! It was no act of love, mage! So come, I know you want to. Just point your medium towards your heart. You know the incantation. _

Harry's hands moved on their own as he felt suddenly very compelled to do as the voice said. He pointed his wand to his chest, the 'reducto' curse on the tip of his tongue, before he stopped and asked himself a question.

"_Why should I do that? Wouldn't that kill me?"_

_Isn't that the idea? You know you'll live a miserable life once no one has the answers you're seeking. So why suffer? Just say the words. Come on, you can do it. _

"_No. No this is wrong. I can't do that! I have to get my friends out of here!"_

_Friends? They aren't your friends. The Nord there tried to kill you, and so would the Khajiit if you hadn't stopped her in time. Come on, if you don't want to die, then just wake your 'friends' up. _

"_S-S…._SHUT UP!" Harry finally shouted, snapping out of his stupor.

A black mist formed just above him and settled itself onto a throne like chair- the source of the blue light. Harry didn't notice that.

The form of an undead warrior took shape. Unlike the being Harry had killed, this one was far larger, easily standing at nine feet and looked extremely evil. It wore a helmet of iron, whose top was designed so that it looked like a crown.

_Not many can snap out of my charm speak._

The voice that spoke this time, was deeper, and certainly reeked of power.

_How you did it so easily, I do not know. You are a mystery, mage. Your past is most curious. No matter, I WILL kill you. And I'll unlock the secrets to your power then. _

Harry stumbled backwards as the large being raised its hands, wielding the terrifying hammer it had high above his head, before sending it crashing down at him. He had a split second to cast a shield charm, but in his hurried state, the shield was weak, but it held.

He fell onto one knee as the being lifted its hammer once again, this time, it prepared to smash Harry's shield harder.

The mage had the good senses to roll away from where he once stood, as the hammer crashed down on the ground a second later, crushing the rocks and creating a deep hole.

_I am Ybbod. The greatest warrior of Skyrim. You cannot hope to fight me. Come and meet your fate, mage._

Harry ran away from the terrible beast as it slowly hunkered on towards him. He passed the hole they fell from, and suddenly, he hit a wall. He cursed, knowing that it was a dead end.

"_Come on! Think! Think! You still need to get Argon and Dar'asha out of here!" _He thought. He was panting now, and the ground shook as Ybbod neared him with very slow, but sure steps.

_Nowhere to run now, mage. Your friends are next._

Harry looked around him, saw large rocks that he guessed used to be the floor from the chamber they previously fell from.

"Confringo!"

The spell hit the being dead center, and it exploded into flames, as Harry heard inhuman screams. But even he knew that it wouldn't be enough to kill the beast.

"Oppugno!" he said, slashing his wand sideways whilst he pointed to the rocks.

They suddenly flew away from him with great speed, and like the spell before them, hit Ybbod one too many times in the head, causing the already burning creature to scream out in anger.

It lifted up its hand, and the flames stopped, and the rocks attacking him exploded into fine rubble.

Harry had to cover his face as the exploded rocks sent shrapnel flying this way and that.

_Enough of this non-sense._

Ybbod rushed Harry like a demon possessed.

The boy dodged to the right as Ybbod slammed his hammer down. The creature tried to catch him with its left hand, only to touch air. It screamed in anger, and it pointed its hand to Harry's back.

A torrent of white mist shot from his hand, freezing Harry's back quite thoroughly. Harry was lucky though, he was able to get out of the range of the spell, and quickly thawed the ice from his back.

He arrived to where the throne was, and he stopped short when he saw his friends bodies there. They were okay, that was something at least.

A fireball that nearly took his head off brought him out of his musings as Ybbod ran towards him.

"_Man, he's not taking his time anymore is he?"_

He dodged a swipe from Ybbod's hammer, before he ran slightly away from the Throne room. The further they were from his friends, the better.

"EXPELLIARMUS! STUPEFY! CONFRINGO! REDUCTO!" He shouted in quick succession.

The spells all hit a shield that Ybbod conjured, before the beast sent a fireball back at Harry.

Harry ducked low, dodging the fireball narrowly, before pointing at the ground in front of the beast.

"Reducto!"

The ground exploded in a fine mist of rubble, and Ybbod reeled back in surprise.

Harry quickly cast multiple curses at the creature. It elicited a terrible scream from it, making it block the spells sent his way.

_You've lasted longer than the last warrior I've battled with thousands of years ago. _

It swung its hammer sideways, making Harry roll sideways as he dodged it.

_It seems that Skyrim's improved in training there warriors these days. _

Harry didn't respond. He had to concentrate!

"Bombarda! Incendio Maxima!" He shouted, smiling at his small victory as the two spells connected.

The being screamed, and it tried to claw away at the flames. It dropped its hammer, and for a moment, Harry thought he won.

He was wrong of course.

Ybbod used one hand to negate the fire, whilst he used the other to grab Harry and throw him down to the floor hard before he threw him down next to the unconscious bodies of his friends.

Coughing and bleeding, Harry clutched onto his wand as he tried to get up a little dizzily. An armored foot pushed him back down, making him grasp for breath.

_I told you, none can defeat me in battle._

Harry continued to gasp for breath as he struggled to stay awake.

And, in an act of sheer desperation, he uttered the first words that entered his mind.

"_Expecto Patronum!"_

**A/N: Second chapters up. You know the drill, review!**

**This is unbeta'd and sadly, I did not have time to check for any mistakes. Forgive me. **


	3. Argon's Woes

**CHAPTER 3**

**Argon's Woes**

"…and Fudge still refuses to see reason. He's thoroughly convinced that the Death Eaters captured in the Ministry are all innocent. Well, 'cept maybe for Lestrange and her lot. Dolohov too."

"Fudge is ineffective, as all of you know. He's taken one too many bribes up his arse that he doesn't even know what's what in the Ministry anymore. His term is obviously useless. Dumbledore, when? When are we going to remove Fudge from the picture?"

"He's on his way out alread-"

"But we need him out faster! He's already processing the release forms for Lucius! Who knows how long till Voldemort gets the Ministry in full."

Dumbledore for his part, sighed as he palmed his face.

"It isn't that simple, Remus. The Wizengamot is practically useless right now with Tom's men inside. We'll be hard pressed to push for a Vote of No Confidence. The Death Eaters are enjoying Fudge's inability to act against them. Tom will hold on to that foothold for as long as he can to make his task easier."

Remus grumbled his response, sitting down on the chair in front of the Headmaster's table. His mind flashed back into memories of his past. Back to the times when he, James, Sirius and Pettigrew got into trouble for seriously pranking Snape. He wished they were all here under those very same circumstances, but unfortunately, it was not to be.

Shacklebot, who stood at the side of the room observing everything since the meeting began, faked a cough, drawing everyone's attention to him.

"I don't think that we should be talking about regaining the Ministry right now. It would be a useless bargain and we'd be risking everything and nothing at the same time on the off chance that one of our plans would be right." He said.

Dumbledore looked at him, and nodded, telling him to elaborate.

Shacklebot breathed deeply, before looking at everyone in the office.

"Harry Potter; he was our greatest asset, and we've lost him-"

"Don't talk about him like he's some object to be used!"

Shacklebot stopped what he was saying, and looked at Sirius grimly. The man had tears on his face, the memory of his Godson still fresh in his mind.

"Forgive me, Sirius. I didn't mean to."

Remus clapped a hand on his Sirius back, and pushed him down onto his seat.

"As I was saying, Harry Potter was the most important player in what I perceive as a deadly game. And we've all lost him," there were a few sad faces at that. "To regain the Ministry would be a useless endeavor. We might succeed, yes, but what then? The Aurors, I tell you, are highly corrupted with those who are sympathetic to Voldemort's cause. The only thing we could gain from such an act is the trust of the people, and even that trust is fragile, something Fudge is responsible for. All political ties with other nations have been cut, due to Fudge not doing anything about Voldemort's recruitment efforts abroad. It is useless."

Dumbledore nodded, agreeing to everything Shacklebot said.

"And I fear that, even if we do fight back and be successful in doing so, we won't be able to stop the war, no matter how hard we try. We can imprison, cage or whatever we could do to temporarily withhold Tom, but I fear we will never end his life." Dumbledore said grimly.

Everyone looked at him confused. Some even looked like they wanted to laugh.

Why couldn't they end Voldemort's life? They beat the Death Eaters into submission, corner the snake, and overwhelm him! Why couldn't they kill him?

Dumbledore, seeing the looks, sighed. _"I have no choice but to tell them."_

And so, he told them the prophecy.

00-00

_Expecto Patronum!_

The bright blue light shot up from his wand, slamming into Ybbod's chest with so much force, that it drove the monster straight up into the air, before it fell down, crashing hard into the ground. The blue light took the form of a stag, and it stood before its master, acting as a shield to the monster before them.

Ybbod stood, staggering slightly as it struggled to stand up.

_I've never seen a Conjuration as powerful as this._

Harry groaned as he wobbled up to his feet, the thumping pain in his head increasing. He vision was a bit blurred, and he was swaying from side to side; blood trailed down from his forehead, all the way to his chin and jaw, where it fell down to the ground below.

He struggled to keep the charm going. His body was refusing to respond properly anymore, as it needed rest.

But he refused to die here!

"What's the problem? Thought you were Skyrim's greatest warrior?"

Ybbod snorted (or what Harry assumed was a snort) before he drew himself up to his full height, wielding his hammer with both hands.

_You're only lucky, mage. I WILL kill you!_

Harry shrugged.

"Maybe…maybe not. Either way, it doesn't matter, because I'm getting out of here one way or the other."

The dark being chuckled, raising his hammer to his chest.

_Shall we, then?_

The wizard thrust his wand forward, like a dagger, prompting the blue stag to charge Ybbod, who, for his part, raised his hammer high, intending to smash the Conjuration away.

Harry enjoyed the comical way Ybbod slammed the hammer down, only to hit nothing as the hammer went straight through a fine, blue mist.

He hit the ground instead, and the antlers of the Stag buried themselves deep into the armored face of Ybbod.

Terrible, frightening screams filled the cavern, as Ybbod struggled to grab Harry's stag and remove the antlers on his face. It kicked, screamed, and swiped wildly at the blue stag, unable to hold onto anything.

Harry dropped the charm, already feeling weak from the energy the charm required.

"CONFINGO! BOMBARDA! REDUCTO! DIFFINDO!" he screamed.

Ybbod was unable to defend himself, or shield himself properly, as he tried to regain his composure from the assault of Harry's stag. He burst into flames as the first spell hit him, felt like the mighty weapons of the God's smashed onto him with the second, screamed in agony as the third blew a small chunk of his undead stomach off, and felt a great wound form on his chest as the last connected.

He fell down onto the ground, not quite having any energy left within him to continue fighting.

_No..no! I was supposed to escape this place! Not die here!_

"Forgive me then, you monster." Harry said, moving closer to the monster.

Black blood dripped from the wound of his chest, and judging by the sound of deep heavy breathing, Harry knew Ybbod was struggling to cling onto consciousness.

He raised his wand, and listened to Ybbod's final attempts to talk him out of it.

_No! I could give you great power! Just let me live!_

Harry sneered at him. "I don't want power; I want my memories."

"REDUCTO!"

The beam left Harry's wand faster than anyone could say 'STOP,' and with a sigh of relief, Harry watched the beam hit Ybbod's helmeted head, going straight through the armor covering what would be his mouth. He watched, fascinated, as Ybbod threw his head back as he let out a mighty scream that sent chills up Harry's spine.

The hole on his helmet glowed blue, before the glow spread to his wounds, and with a mighty, dull explosion, Ybbod's body expelled a dark cloud that blew Harry straight off his feet. The cloud screamed, struggling to escape the dying body, before the said body started burning, the black mist burning with it.

It took a couple more seconds before the mist completely burned out, and the screams to stop; but by that time, Harry Potter was already unconscious.

Minutes passed with nothing happening. The distant sound of a waterfall echoed around the cavern, but the sound of hope was not to wake up the heroes.

Well, not Harry at least.

His companions stirred, groaning as the effects of the stunner Harry sent their way made their bodies ache. They stood up, wobbling slightly before regaining a fraction of stability.

Argon was the first to completely recover, and so, he was the one to find Harry's body lying just beside him.

"Ulrich!" He said, as he rushed to his side.

Dar'asha followed the Nord's gaze, and was quick to come to Harry's side too.

They checked him over, using a patch of cloth from Argon's tunic to wipe the blood off his face. Dar'asha used what little magic she knew, and closed the wounds all over Harry's body.

"Will he be alright?" Argon asked.

Dar'asha nodded. "Yes. He's just out cold. I've managed to stop the bleeding on his head, and I think a couple of boned in his body are broken."

Argon reeled back in surprise.

"How can he be alright then?"

"Cause I'm not dead."

There was a grunt of pain as Harry stood up, clutching his side. He tore off his sleeves, using it to wipe the blood off of his face.

Argon and Dar'asha sighed in relief. They both helped Harry up to his feet, both feeling great pain themselves.

Harry hissed as he clutched his side. "Right, well, I've broken a rib or two here. You two sane again?"

Argon and Dar'asha gave an uneasy laugh, before speaking one more.

"Right, sorry about that." Argon said, scratching the back of his head.

Dar'asha said her apologies, and Harry explained his battle with the undead warrior.

Argon looked rather surprised at first, before he smiled widely and clapped Harry lightly on the shoulder.

"I might just keep you with me for a while." He said, grinning.

"Careful, Dar'asha might steal me away from you." Harry replied, causing the Khajiit in question to growl playfully.

"On a serious note though, I can't believe you had the ability to kill this thing." She said.

"It wasn't easy. Nearly got me killed." Harry said.

"Even so, not many can take on something like that and live to tell the tale." Argon said. "But, we shouldn't ponder on such thoughts anymore, I say. Nordic tradition demands you buy your companions a pint as you tell the tale of your great battle!"

As Argon and the Khajiit laughed, Harry grew a bit serious.

"As much as I'd like to, Argon, could you do me a favor my friend." Harry said.

"Why, of course! You saved me here after all! S'only right I do you a favor. Long' as it's within reason of course." Argon said.

"Well, can you keep silent about what you've witnessed here? I mean, you can tell of all the Draugrs you've killed, but tell no one about me…about my magic."

Comprehension dawned on both of their faces.

"Oh…oh of course not!" Dar'asha said.

"Thanks. Now, do any of you know where we are? Or how to get out of here rather?"

"I haven't got a clue." Argon said.

Dar'asha rolled her eyes at them, before pointing to their left. "There, I hear the faint sound of a waterfall. If we're lucky, we'll find a tunnel leading out of here." She said.

Harry nodded, before asking "How'd you hear that?"

She smiled at him, baring her sharp teeth, "I have the ears of a cat. What do you expect?"

Argon laughed. "For a Khajiit, you sure do speak alright."

She growled at him at that.

Argon took a few steps backwards, holding his hands in the air, "Not that, there's, you know, anything wrong with that."

Dar'asha shook her head, sighing disdainfully. "It comes with being raised by humans, Argon."

Argon's mouth took the shape of an 'O' before he shrugged and followed Harry, who was already making his way over to the direction Dar'asha pointed.

"Lumos." He said.

The light that appeared on the tip of his wand was dim, barely illuminating the dark passage that stood before him. He raised his hand higher, hoping to see better. He turned to his friends, who were already by his side.

"Are you okay Ulrich?" Argon asked, concern in his voice.

"Y-yeah. I'm just really tired is all." Harry said.

Both his companions nodded, and together, they went on deeper into the cavern, following Dar'asha as she led them to where she was hearing the waterfall. It was a longer passage then they thought, and it took a while before the sound of the waterfall was loud enough for Harry and Argon to hear. They exchanged excited looks, both very dearly wanting to be out of the cavern.

But it was still going to be a long walk.

"Hey, do you think Hajvarr got his bandits to stop watching our families?" Argon asked.

"Why, yes. I mean, he only got his men to watch them to keep us from escaping, right?" Dar'asha asked.

They both looked to Harry, silently asking his opinion.

In all honesty, Harry didn't believe they've stopped watching their families. At any rate, it was more like they stopped watching their families directly, but they didn't stop watching the towns or cities their families were in; if what Hajvarr told him when they met was anything to go by:

_I've heard from my lookouts of strange happenings in the Stormbrewer farm!_

So to Harry, it was more like they were watching the places they were kidnapped from; Whiterun, Riverwood, and wherever Dar'asha was taken from, but not their families directly. The female Khajiit was right, Hajvarr only got his men to look after their families directly because he needed something to blackmail them with.

Finally, after thinking a bit, Harry replied. "Yes, I think he's had his people stop looking after our families, but I don't think he's told them to go away."

Argon furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Harry looked at him, and then to Dar'asha, who had the same look on her face.

"Well, think about it; he didn't have anyone look at each one of us directly because of our talents, no, he discovered them by accident. I think he had lookouts at the towns we were kidnapped in long before he had that map. From what Thorin told me, bandits and raiders have become a nasty problem here in the plains, and generally all of Skyrim, long before I arrived on their doorstep."

Argon shook his head. "So basically you're telling me that I can't just walk into Riverwood to be with my mother because Hajvarr's bandits will see me and report back to him?"

Harry looked at him grimly; he knew Dar'asha was contemplating what he said very seriously, if her silence was anything to go by.

"Look, as much as I don't like to say it, that's what I think. I'd advice you not to do anything until we know for certain Hajvarr hasn't any men looking at the towns."

"And if he does?" Argon asked, as they passed a weird glowing mushroom.

"Then we do something about Hajvarr and his bandits. Remove them from the picture if you will." _Even though I'd like not to kill anyone._ Harry thought.

Argon nodded happily at that. At least he got to go home.

"But wouldn't that make Hajvarr send out men to investigate?" Dar'asha suddenly asked.

"Doubt it. Hajvarr's the type of man that doesn't care if his pawns are dead. He'll only back them up with someone useful when he feels he's going to die from leaving them vulnerable." Argon answered.

Dar'asha nodded slowly, though she was a bit unsure still.

"Oh don't feel so down. Hunters get into brawls with bandits all the times, with the hunters leaving the bandits dead more often than not. Hajvarr would likely pass the death of his bandits as an encounter with hunters."

Argon's smile never left its place as they journeyed through the tunnels.

Harry furrowed his eyes a bit. At least one of his companions was happy; he _was_ about to be reunited with his family. That left him and Dar'asha, and the both of them were a bit unsure about going home.

Harry more so.

He'd be putting Thorin's family in so much trouble if he ever showed his face in Whiterun, or anywhere near the plains for that matter. He should be trying to get Argon to think for a moment of what him going home meant for Dar'asha and him, but look at the guy! He was practically _glowing_ in his happiness. If there ever was something as being drunk on happiness then he'd be a perfect example of it!

00-00

It did not take long from the three of them to exit the cave. They exited through a small opening behind a thick patch of bush, barely noticeable to anyone unless they knew where to look. It lead to a small patch of land beside the river, and the three took their first mouthfuls of cool water in days. Their 'warden' hadn't been kind with them, and only provided them with water to just wet their absolutely dry mouths.

"Mhmm…by the Gods this is good!" Dar'asha said, smiling for the first time since they were in the cave.

Argon nodded in agreement, as he washed his face with the water. "I can't wait to go home to Riverwood! Delphine from the tavern there was whipping the town a special brew of some of her mead! She's never let us down before with her delicacies so I assume it must be something special. She could lighten up a bit sometimes though, as she's always cranky."

Harry smiled at him before washing his face too. The water felt good, removing any traces of dirt and soot from his face.

They took their time by the river, just washing various parts of their body or drinking the fine, cool river. It was a silent moment as they all knew what would transpire next.

They would have to separate here and go on their different ways. Well, except maybe Harry and Argon. Harry needed immediate attention to his various wounds, before he could go continue his task to Winterhold.

"My friends, this is where I go on my own way." Dar'asha suddenly said, standing up from her position by the river. "As much as I don't want to, my father would probably be quite worried about me."

Harry stood up from his position, followed by Argon. He offered his hand for her to take, instead he received a massive hug. He smiled sadly and clapped her on the back. "Thanks, thanks for everything. If it weren't for you and Argon back there, I would've had my head chopped off rather easily."

She laughed and released him from the hug.

"You're young, Ulrich. You have great power, and I do not doubt that you'd be a great warrior with the proper training."

Harry nodded in thanks to her, stepping aside as Argon received the same hug.

She soon departed, following a small path going eastwards, towards where she told them she lived; Falkreath.

"Well, come on Ulrich. The faster we're home, the faster you'll get healed." Argon finally said, motioning Harry to follow him through a small path that led westward now. The sun rose high above them, indicating that since the battle they had with the Draugr, to the moment they left the dark cave, hours had already passed.

"So, what're you going to do when you get home?" Argon asked.

Harry shrugged. "I haven't a home to go to besides the College in Winterhold." _If I ever make it there that is. Oh, and don't forget Harry, that you still don't know if you're even a student there._

Argon turned a confused look to him, silently asking him to explain further.

"Well, you know. I only to came to Whiterun so I could visit a friend. My home's in Winterhold." _Hopefully._

Argon finally nodded in understanding. "So your magic, is this a new thing taught to mages nowadays?"

Harry shook his head. "As far as anyone's told me, no." Well, it wasn't a complete lie. He didn't know if it was taught in this College, and he wasn't even sure if his magic was the same as everyone else's here in Skyrim.

The bushes that dotted the trail seemed to lessen quite a bit as they trudged on forward.

"There be a bridge here we can use to cross the river. It'll take us straight to Riverwood. It's quite walk though." Argon said.

Harry nodded, though he wasn't sure if he could last a bit longer with his injuries. He walked on forward, ignoring the sharp stabs of pain in his side. There definitely was something wrong in that part of his anatomy.

And then he smelt it; the very distinct smell of burning wood. He would've passed it off as someone cooking an animal they've hunted, but knowing the situation they were in, Harry took no chances.

"You smell that?" He asked.

Argon stopped in his walking instantly, lifting his head up as he tried to smell the air.

"Burning wood?" He asked, confused.

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Well, I just thought I'd be a bit precautious, with our situa-" And there, just behind Argon's shoulders, he saw it; the black pillar of smoke that rose from the ground. It was huge to say the least, and Harry's eyes widened as he saw it.

Argon must've seen his face, as he turned around, before a cry of anguish left his mouth. He suddenly ran, with Harry following slowly behind him as his injuries proved to be too painful.

"Argon! Argon slow down!" Harry wheezed.

The boy didn't show signs that he heard him; in fact, his run towards his home only quickened, leaving Harry behind in the dust.

Harry did his best to catch up with him, or maybe just close the huge gap Argon created between them as he struggled with the pain. It was futile though, as when Harry reached a clearing, Argon was well on his way to crossing the bridge.

Suddenly, there was the sound of rocks falling, before small pebbles peppered the road in front of Harry. Bandits, three of them, leapt from a small cliff down towards Harry. They cornered him, two in the front, and one in the back.

But that wasn't all of them, is seemed. Two more appeared on the cliff, wielding hunting bows as they stood and took aim on Harry.

"Tsk. Trapped now are you, boy? You must be the mage Hajvarr was talking about. The one he got killed up there in Bleak Falls. You obviously survived with the other one. Don't worry, he'll be reunited with his family soon." Harry didn't know who spoke, and he didn't care. He was too busy looking for a way out of this. "I heard Hajvarr saying something about paying Thorin a visit cause you didn't do your job properly."

It was at this that his head attention was gained. He stood rooted to the spot, just staring blankly at the bandit who spoke. The hairless man smiled evilly at him, showing the teeth he had _obviously_ taken care of for years.

"Ah, got your attention now do I? Don't you worry, you'll meet Thorin soon enough. I don't know who'll get there first but I'd wager it be you who goes to Sovngarde early."

Harry narrowed his eyes, his emotions quickly being irritated.

"Where's the Khajiit, eh? Draugr cut her paws off? She was a real feisty one. If Hajvarr hadn't had his adventure, I'd be knocking her up right into the heavens, eh boys?" There was a chorus of amused laughter at this, and the bandits lowered their weapons a bit, finding an easy job ahead of them.

"You don't want to fight now, do you?" Harry asked. He was angry now, and he was truly near his breaking point.

The bandits laughed. "What? Are you frightened, mage?"

"No, just making sure." Harry said.

He pointed his wand to the archers, and shouted "IMMOBILUS!" before he turned his attention to the bandits on the ground with him.

They rushed him as soon as he cast his spell, and he moved away from them, closer to the river.

"STUPEFY! INCARCEROUS!"

Two down.

"Bombarda!"

Damn! A miss!

He dodged a swing of the bandits sword, but didn't have enough room for the knee that came crashing to his stomach.

"AH!"

The bandit brought the butt of his sword to Harry's back, eliciting a pained growl from the already injured boy. He pushed the bandit off of him, before he ran up to him and punched him in the face.

His opponent did let himself be deterred however, as he swept Harry's feet from under him, knocking the wizard flat on his back.

The murderous man sat on Harry's stomach, and started to pummel the wizard's face unrelentlessly.

Harry dodged, blocked and did whatever he could to stop the blows from coming. In a fit of rage, he wildly produced a punch, luckily hitting the bandit in the jaw. He scrambled to the side, trying to find his wand.

He aimed it at the bandit as soon as he did, but already his opponent had regained his composure. He kicked the wand out of Harry's hand, before he punched him square in the face, disorienting Harry out quite thoroughly.

This time, Harry did not stand up, the pain of his old injuries, plus the new ones he acquired from the bandits, proved too great for his body. It simply refused to do anything anymore but to let Harry stay awake.

"Well, now I see how you managed to get away from those thoughtless beasts. Nice stick of yours. I ain't seen a mage use this as a medium; most of em' use staffs of course. Which asks the question," Harry heard the man crouching down and pick up his wand. "Just what're you hiding, mage?"

A vicious kick to his side made Harry scream out loudly, before he crawled away from the man.

"As soon as I'm done with you, I think I'll go pay Hajvarr a visit he ain't ever forgetting. After of course, I 'persuade' you to tell me what I want to know."

Harry stopped now, unable to move any longer. He felt something poking him in the chest, and in an instant, Harry had a plan.

"That is unless, you want to not suffer and tell me straight away." The bandit said, and Harry could just hear the smile in his voice.

"Why don't you come here and make me then?" Harry said, turning his head slightly to look at the bandit.

He smiled, shaking his head as he made his way over to Harry.

"I don't think you realize th-"

He didn't say anything further as Harry stabbed the knife he'd found straight into the man's thigh, making scream loudly and drop the wand he held as he tried to remove the knife in his thigh.

Harry was quick to recover his wand, and stunned the man quickly.

A breath of relief escaped from him, and he collapsed to the ground, finding it hard to stand any longer. He clutched his side painfully as the pain he felt in the caves came back with a vengeance.

The sound of footsteps nearing made Harry look up to the bridge, and he saw six, maybe eight people crossing it, making their way over to him. The look of sadness on Argon's face was heart shattering. Dried tears stained his face as the men around him all had their weapons out, searching for any danger.

When Argon saw the incapacitated bodies of the bandits, he immediately rushed up to one, and in a fit of rage, stabbed him straight though the chest. He was stopped right afterwards of course, by the men from the town.

"Argon stop! Calm down!" said the man who tried to hold Argnor.

"Calm down? Clam down? They killed my mother! They killed my mother! They deserve to die!" the boy said.

"There will be time for revenge later lad. Calm down for now and we'll see what we can do later." A man suddenly said.

He was the most curious looking fellow in the group of men surrounding the place Harry battled on. Unlike the other men, who looked like they wore only what they needed for day-to-day living, this man had on him a thick, heavy cloak, with a strap that held the design of an eagle. The hood of said cloak was adorned with fur, and the clothes he wore inside were of the sturdy type.

An adventurer.

"You did this, lad?" The man suddenly asked, turning to Harry.

Harry nodded, a little bit of adrenaline still in him.

"They tried to corner me. It's not just here in Riverwood; they're attacking a farm in Whiterun, and I'd wager they're attacking some other house in Falkreath." Harry said, referencing to both Thorin and Dar'asha's families.

The man nodded, stroked his black beard, before turning to the man behind him.

"I'll go to Whiterun and check the attack there. The guards need to know about this anyway. Why are bandits suddenly getting bolder?" He asked.

No one held the answer, and no one spoke for a long time. Only the sound of Argon's crying and the natural sounds around them were audible. The adventurer turned his back to them before he ran back to the town.

The last of Harry's strength left him, as he fell face first down to the ground and into blissful unconsciousness.

00-00

"Fire! There's a fire in the plains!"

The room hall erupted into chaos as guards and Balgruuf's councilors started speaking with each other over this matter.

"Silence! Guard! What is going on?" asked Balgruuf.

"Milord, one of the farms in the plains is on fire. It was an attack, milord. There was a fire signal before every patch of land on that farm was seen burning. Sigur has sent some of his men to see what happened." The worried guard said.

"Well? Who's farm is it?" Balgruuf asked, rising from his throne as he began to pace. This was something not to be taken too lightly. No one has dared attack Whiterun and its surrounding areas. Not even the farthest of their territories in Riverwood.

The guard shook his head. "The Stormbrewer's milord. I have no word yet as to whether they survived."

Balgruuf looked at the guard in horror. The Stormbrewer's were one of the best farmers they had; they provided the most nutritious of any fruits and vegetables, and they were one of the biggest suppliers of food to Whiterun. To lose the farm and its people would prove to have long lasting consequences.

He scrunched up his face in deep thought as he sat down on the throne, the skull of the dragon looming above his head.

"Milord?" The guard asked. He'd be at a loss as to what to do if he were in Balgruuf's position.

"Have any of Sigur's men returned?"

"None yet milord. The fire was too big. It consumed the entire patch of land the Stormbrewer's used. Even from my place on the outer wall, I could see the flames burning brightly."

Balgruuf growled, making everyone quite uneasy.

"Do any of you have an idea who did this? Never in Whiterun's history has anyone become so bold as to attack so suddenly."

Some shook their heads, and those who had ideas spoke them aloud.

"Bandits?"

"Giants?"

"Rogue Warriors?"

It was with this way that the people in the hall voiced their thoughts. None of the guards voiced their thoughts, though if you were to ask them directly, their thoughts were very much like the ones the people in the hall already said.

"Milord, I have reason to believe that it was bandits." A toady looking man said.

"And what reason could you have to support this claim, Tharos?"

"There were whispers of disappearances all across the plains; all the way to Riverwood. In total, there have been twelve disappearances. All witnesses have claimed that it was the work of bandits in the east, though that claim has not been proven false."

"Why has this been brought to my attention just now?" Balgruuf said, the anger rising in his voice. "I am the Jarl of Whiterun! Why was it that information concerning my people has only been told to me in a time such as this?"

The Toady man cowered in fear as Balgruuf rose from his chair, kneeling almost immediately as the Jarl did so.

"M-milord. Forgive me. T-ther-"

"Do not excuse yourself, Tharos! How you could possibly withhold that information from me, and for what purpose, I do not know. But I will find out. By Sovngarde I will find out!" Balgruuf said.

The people inside the hall tried to calm Balgruuf down as Tharos still kneeled in front of the Jarl.

"Well Tharos? What could disappearances of twelve people have anything to do with this attack?"

"Milord, the people who've been disappearing were young. Their ages range from young men to adults. The disappearances have occurred in farms and homes, but never in the city itself. They've occurred outside our walls, and most of the people taken were trained people; they could fight off any attackers. Most were skilled in the art of combat milord."

Balgruuf rose once more from his throne.

"Now this news has become alarming indeed. If it was indeed bandits, what could they possibly gain from attacking farms and homes?"

"Milord! Milord! There has been another attack! In Riverwood milord!" a guard said, running into the hall with another man behind him.

"This adventurer came from Riverwood! He's brought news of an attack!"

Balgruuf gestured to the adventurer, and told him to tell his tale.

"It was in the late hours of the morning, milord. Nearing lunch time when it happened. Three bandits came into the town on horses, and started throwing flames into this one house. They tried to burn down the lumber mill of the town too, but they were stopped by the townspeople. The house they first attacked though, it was not saved. The woman inside died, milord."

Balgruuf stoked his beard. Most alarming news indeed.

"Send guards to Riverwood. I don't care how many, just make sure it is sufficiently guarded! Get Sigur back here! I want to hear what happened in that farm!"

The adventurer spoke up, "Forgive me, milord, but there was an attack here also?"

"I am saddened to tell you the truth. Bandits have suddenly come attacking us!"

"Milord, there was a boy from Riverwood, reported missing days ago. He turned up all of a sudden in the middle of the bandit attack, and the townspeople of Riverwood recognized him immediately. They said he was missing for days, and that it was his mother who died in the wreckage of the burning home. He brought another boy with him, a mage from what I have gathered. There were whispers all across Riverwood that the two of them were held prisoners of the bandits, before they could make their escape."

Balgruuf reeled at this news. Young men? People who could defend himself? No no, he would have to work this out.

"Can you take them to me, adventurer? I promise to provide them food and other necessities to see they are taken care of." Balgruuf said.

The adventurer bowed to him, saying "Yes Milord. I'll bring them here as quickly as I can."

Balgruuf finally sat there and waited as the people in the hall left. He sighed heavily; he was confused and a little bit hysterical at the moment. How could bandits possibly do all this? Stormbrewer's farm and now a house in Riverwood? What in Sovngarde was happening?

Bandits don't act like this, no. Those kidnappings; what were they for? They only took those who could fight; were they hoping to find no resistance when they eventually attacked? But that doesn't make any sense, Feubler, son of Thorin was a capable fighter. He'd be able to take out at least one or two bandits.

Unless, they took someone else that could fight them, someone who wasn't a Stormbrewer. A visiting friend perhaps; Thorin WAS an Imperial Soldier before. Could it be that it was someone from his days as a soldier? But Thorin would have reported that immediately.

Balgruuf huffed in annoyance. His guards would kill those bandits as soon as they found them…IF they found them at all. Bandits had a natural affinity for hiding, and Bandits around here in Skyrim were cowards, hiding out in caves and attacking travelling merchants and undefended villages. But it seems that this set of bandits had enough bravery to attack at the very heart of Skyrim.

What could they possibly have at the moment, to give them enough courage to attack here? In Whiterun? Did they have more people now? Did they possess talented fighters? Mages?

Or did they have an ally? Someone that they think would help them in the time they attack Whiterun up front. But who? Who could that ally be? The rats from Riften? The entire Guild of Warriors and Thieves to back them up? Or could it be the Stormcloaks? No, no, Ulfric cannot risk Whiterun being Empire territory. The Empire then? Trying to set up Ulfric and his warriors so that Whiterun would be theirs?

Highly unlikely, but possible.

This was something he'd have to give more time to. Decisions concerning his city would have to decisions made in caution and logic.

00-00

**A/N: Another chapter here! Sorry I wasn't able to update yesterday. **

**Anyway, I wanted to concentrate on other people's point of view for a while, since I thought Harry's story was going along rather too quickly for my likes. I'm not sure how to feel about this chapter though, as this was a bit rushed. **

**Anyway, I'd like to pose a challenge to anyone reading this. In the next chapter, whoever can find a special reference to a movie/book/game or whatever, well, I'll send over the next two chapters to you. How's that sound? Assuming of course, you all want to play my game. **


	4. Shattered Memories

**CHAPTER 4**

**Shattered Memories**

Jarl Balgruuf was man not easily shocked by many things. He believed that he had seen what many have not in Skyrim; Draugr, Frost Spiders, Giants, Mammoths, and even a Falmer.

But he was shocked as the two supposedly 'taken' children walked into his hall with the Adventurer he tasked with getting them. Well, one of them was a child at least. The other was little bit older, nineteen perhaps, and he had the look of complete sadness on his face, while the other held worry.

He'd wager a guess that the older one was the one who lost the mother Riverwood, while the other remained a mystery. He'd figure this out soon enough. He rose from his chair at the table, and opened his arms wide.

"Come, take a seat, all of you. I know you've had quite a journey." He said.

They all took seats at the table, and maidens from the kitchens suddenly went into the hall, carrying pitchers of ale, mead, water, and other beverages while others carried trays of meat. They set them down on the table and left without a word.

"We were just about to begin supper. You've come at a right time." Balgruuf said. Okay, so he was at a bit of a loss here. The two boys looked around uncertainly, and no one in the hall knew how to console them; to comfort them.

So instead, almost all the adults drank from their mugs, unable to say anything that wouldn't set the boys into uncontrolled tears.

But the younger of the two closed his eyes and breathed calmly. He looked straight into Balgruuf's eyes and asked.

"Milord, are the Stormbrewer's alive?"

Balgruuf reeled back in surprise, and sat his hands onto his lap. This was interesting now. He stood from his seat and waved the guards walking towards him away.

"Walk with me, young one." Balgruuf said.

The boy stood up slowly, and followed the Jarl up a flight of stairs and through a set of double doors. They walked through what must've been a training ground, if the racks of weapons on the walls, and the training dummies were anything to go by.

They walked right out onto a balcony, where the stars above Skyrim shined brightly in the vastness of space. The two moons glowed brightly in the distance, looking like a light of hope for anyone who's lost it.

"Were they your family?" Balgruuf finally asked.

The boy shook his head. "No. I was a friend."

"Of Feubler?"

"Of Thrair milord."

Balgruuf nodded his head.

"Why did they kidnap you? The bandits I mean." The Jarl asked.

The boy sighed. "They used us in the leader of the bandits little adventure. There were two others, Argon and a female Khajiit, Dar'asha. We were…chosen because of our talents."

Balgruuf looked at the boy, and urged him to continue.

"Argon was chosen for his skill as an archer, Dar'asha for being a thief, and me for being a mage. From what I know, Hajvarr has watchers all across the plains looking out for people with 'special abilities.' I was unlucky enough to be seen practicing my magic in the Stormbrewer farm." Harry said. "They held the families they last seen us with as blackmail material. They'd be held alive long as we did what they want." He said finally, with a little bit of scorn in his voice.

"Were there others with you?" Balgruuf asked, trying to piece together the little clues he had.

"Yes. We could hear them in the other parts of the cave, but we didn't see any of them."

"And what was this adventure you said that the bandit leader had you taking part in?" Balgruuf asked. It was a little sick, having children do your bidding. And if Balgruuf ever met this bandit leader, he'd be sure to give him a piece of his mind, _and_ his hammer.

"They had us go to Bleak Falls Barrow in search of this treasure of his. It was a trap, and Draugr attacked us left and right. We barely made it out alive. I'm assuming Hajvarr, the bandit leader, escaped, as he's attacked." Harry didn't _everything _about his little adventure in the cave, as it would raise far too many questions. Such as 'how were you able to defeat that undead warrior?' So he hushed up whatever he could, hoping no one would take notice.

"I can't say I know how you feel, lad. But, if there's anything, anything I could do, just ask." Balgruuf said. Well, that was how he at least made older people feel better. He didn't know if the same applied to a young man.

He was left to his thoughts as he let the boy be escorted back to the table by one of the guards. He stood there silently, contemplating his thoughts.

The boy must've been the one the bandits took if he was right. The boy was a mage, and the bandits must've seen _something_ threatening to have the boy taken, and not Feubler.

From what little he knew, Balgruuf pieced together this: the bandits were taking people, mostly children, who would be able to defend their families in case of an attack. A bandit attack more specifically. So they wouldn't be able to defend themselves, perhaps. By the amount of people taken, he assumed something big was going to happen, and he wanted to stop whatever it was. And this little adventure Hajvarr had with his prisoners was something to look into as well.

"You, get Sigur here immediately."

"Yes, milord." The guard said. He quickly left through the doors, skipping some steps as he made his way down the stairs towards the prison cells, where Sigur was busy 'persuading' his prisoners.

"Milord, the Jarl asks for your presence in the balcony." He said.

Sigur looked at the guard, panting slightly as he wiped the blood off his hands. "I'll be there shortly."

The guard raised his hand over to his chest in a salute, and left the room. Sigur turned his attention to his guest as the guard left, and watched as two other soldiers in the room violently plucked a nail from the Khajiit's hands.

"Will you talk now?" asked the guard in front of him.

The Khajiit held tears in its eyes as it refused to say anything.

"Don't stop. Heal them if you have to; I just want the answers." Sigur said to the guard.

He gave a salute and walked away, still holding the cloth he used to clean his hands. He passed by the table in the hall, and noticed new faces sitting there quietly eating and conversing with the Jarl's mage. Two young men and an adventurer it seemed. He shrugged as he moved away; it wasn't any of his business who the Jarl invited over to Dragonsreach. Well technically it was; him being in charge of a division of guards whose duty was to protect the Jarl and all.

"Sigur! Any news?" Balgruuf asked as soon as Sigur's footsteps resounded on the cold hard floor of the balcony.

He shook his head, giving the Jarl a crisp salute. "Unfortunately milord, the prisoners we've taken were adamant about not talking. We've been unable to extract any sort of useful information, such as where the bandits are hiding out."

Balgruuf shook his head in disdain. "You get me those answers, Sigur. Word has spread all over Whiterun of the Stormbrewer's murders. If we can't do anything about this, I'm afraid people will start risking the long journey towards other towns and cities."

Sigur nodded. "I've already sent out hunting parties scouring the plains without rest. We'll stop at nothing until those bandits are dead. I've heard from the guards whose shifts have ended around the city that the Companions are passing a request to hunt the bandits down. They just need your…permission."

"They need my permission? They've never needed my permission for something like this before." Balgruuf said.

"I meant, milord, that they want a bit of payment." Sigur said.

"Ah. Yes yes, I'll get that settled. Just have them do what they need to as quickly as possible. Send word to the halls of Jorrvaskr, or more specifically, to Kodlak that we need some of them alive for questioning; I'd prefer if it was their leader, that madman Hajvarr." Balgruuf said, waving the soldier off.

"It shall be done milord." Sigur said.

The guard left, and soon after, Balgruuf walked back into the hall, and watched the boys as they ate slowly, and his court mage trying his best to keep up a conversation with the adventurer.

"Are you alright?" He asked to the boys.

"Yes." The two chorused together.

"Very well. Do you have any place to go?"

"I don't." answered one.

"I do." Answered the other.

He looked at the boy who said he did in question, the younger one.

"You do?"

He nodded, though a bit reluctantly.

"I was on my way to Winterhold…to the College when I got taken." He said.

Balgruuf nodded.

The court wizard in front of the young boy smiled happily, though it was a bit forced. "You're a mage then? You're the youngest one I've seen so far. But alas, at least now I know Skyrim's younger generations are thinking towards progress rather than this highly unneeded war." He said.

"Farengar." Balgruuf said threateningly.

The mage quickly shut up, before concentrating on eating the roast chicken on his plate.

Balgruuf turned his attention to the one without a home, and before he could ask, the younger one spoke up.

"He can come with me."

Balgruuf stared at him for a while, before nodding his agreement. If the boys had somewhere to stay, that was good enough for Balgruuf.

The adventurer nodded, drinking some of his ale, before he stood up. "Milord, thank you for this fine meal you've given, but I'm afraid I must go. I have business to attend to in Riften." He said.

Balgruuf nodded to him, and asked a guard to escort him out, leaving the hall empty aside from the guards, the boys, Balgruuf and Farengar.

The Jarl turned to the boys, who were drinking out of their mugs.

"Have you had your fill? I'll have one of the maids escort you to the Bannered Mare where you can spend your night. Don't worry about paying, I'll pay for it. I'll give you two hundred septims for all the trouble the bandits gave to you. I'm sorry that I can't give you anymore, but I believe the knowledge that we'll be hunting the bandits down for you should be sufficient to satisfy you for now." Balgruuf said. He hadn't expected the older of the two to suddenly stand up, and in a fit of rage, screamed out:

"I want to kill them myself!"

The younger one was a bit reluctant, but he agreed whole heartedly with the other boy.

The guards all came forward, hands on the handles of their swords. Balgruuf waved them off; knowing well how losing someone can make you act foolish in the wrong places.

"I know what you want lad, but I can't give it to you. Please, let's not make the situation harder for everyone." Balgruuf said, understanding in his eyes. "We'll hunt them, and kill them. I'll be sure to let you know once we've done so."

The boy gritted his teeth, but apologized to the Jarl quickly.

"It's well into the night already." He motioned for one of the maids. "Follow her to the Bannered Mare, and she'll get you all settled in."

The younger one nodded, lifting a calming hand on the other boy's shoulder.

"Let's go Argon." _We'll get our revenge later._ Harry thought darkly.

They followed the maid out of Dragonsreach, and down towards the Bannered Mare, where she told the lady behind the counter, "We need a room for these two boys here, Jarl's orders." The lady almost immediately settled them in a small, but nice room, even forgetting some of the patrons who came there first.

They settled themselves in quite quickly, seeing as how they didn't have any clothes to unpack anyway.

"Why'd you do that?" Argon suddenly asked.

Harry turned to him, tilting his head to the side. "What do you mean?"

"Why'd you tell the Jarl that I could come with you?"

"Would you rather I leave you here in Whiterun, when you're now dirt poor?" Harry asked.

Argon shook his head. "I can take care of myself, Ulrich." He hissed rather angrily at Harry.

Harry raised a brow at him, he was emotionally and physically drained, the time he had being healed catching up to him.

"What are you trying to prove then?"

"I'm trying to say that you should let me make my own decisions!" Argon screamed.

"What? As far as I was concerned, you'd be halfway back to Riverwood right now! And then what? Where would you live, huh?"

Argon drew himself up to his full height, which was quite intimidating.

"Don't think like you know what's best for me, mage! You're younger than me! And I've got friends to take me in!" Argon said.

"Then fine! You want to go back home, then go! I'm sorry if what I said got you into thinking that I knew what was best for you! Here! Here's half of the money the Jarl gave us! I'll find someplace else to go to."

And with that, he left the room, quickly climbing down the stairs into a silent room. The patrons were all in there, staring silently at Harry as he made his way through and out the door. Furious whispers broke out after he left, and the drunken population of the people started laughing loudly.

Harry never broke his step as he made his way through the city, kicking rocks aside as he huffed up in annoyance. His body was trying to refuse any more movement, but the anger pumping through him forced both his mind and body to move.

He didn't want to think about Argon, feeling too angry at him for the moment. He didn't want to think about Thorin and his family either, knowing their fate. For the first time since waking up broken and bleeding in the Stormbrewer's farm, Harry was well and truly alone in Skyrim.

He'd have to get to Winterhold as soon as possible. He wondered if he could still take the carriage from Whiterun to Winterhold tomorrow. The faster he knew the truth, the better.

He arrived at the gates, and told the guard blocking it to let him through.

"Aren't you supposed to be at home at a time like this?" The guard asked.

"I don't have one, so let me through." He said, leaving out the 'or else' part of his statement.

"Alright alright. No need to get angry."

He walked out, straight down the path and through Whiterun's gates. He passed by the stables, seeing dim lights through the window of the house, and small sign on the door that read 'closed.'

He did this for what seemed like hours; walking around in the plains silently, just trying to get himself to relax. He gave a breath of annoyance before he lay down on the ground, just staring up at the beautiful sky of Tamriel. From where he lay, Harry could see the different constellations Thorin pointed out to him when they were out in the yard.

Harry suddenly grew sad at the thought of Thorin. He silently vowed to himself to take revenge on Hajvarr and his men.

The silence, peace and serenity of the place he was in lulled Harry right into a beautiful sleep.

00-00

"You'd think that with the many monsters of Skyrim wandering the plains, one would think it wise to sleep indoors."

"You just shut it Farkas. Leave the boy be."

"But he looks so peaceful…the perfect person to wake in a beautiful day like this."

"You touch one hair on him, and I'll have you scrubbing plates back in Jorrvaskr. I'll even take the money you said you'd use to buy Hal's Armor."

"You wouldn't would you? Yeah, I guess you would."

"You're a bit too late it shutting his mouth, Vilkas. The boy's about to wake."

And wake Harry he did. The boy gave an annoyed groan as he sat up, wiping the sleep off his eyes. He looked at the three people standing before with irritation, shaking his head as he said, "Any reason you were noisy?"

A boy was about to say something, only to be punched lightly in the chest by another boy…his twin?

"Forgive us, we were just passing by when my brother saw you and couldn't pass the opportunity to make other people irate." He said. "I'm Vilkas, and this is my brother Farkas." He gestured at his brother, before he pointed his hand to the redhead beside him. "Aela."

Harry nodded to each one of them, and asked, "What are you doing out here then?" They couldn't have been much older than him, in fact, they looked like they WERE the same age as him, being more muscular actually was the only obvious difference. THAT and because they wore armor for battle, and were armed for war.

"Inquisitive, isn't he brother?" Farkas joked.

The three people laughed, and Harry felt himself being annoyed already. The memory of Thorin's family having died yesterday was not a good thing for Harry's mood at the moment. He grunted irritably and stood, leaving the three behind as they shouted apologies after him. He did not listen nor care; he had to go to the stables to inquire if the carriage to Winterhold was available. He knew Thorin would've wanted him to continue his quest.

He knocked on the wooden door, and as before, the same man greeted him.

"Oh. It's you. Still looking for a ride to Winterhold?" the man asked.

Harry nodded. The quicker he was out of there, the better.

The man, Jervar as he was called, nodded his head and went back inside, before he returned, holding a leather bound book that was at least as thick as a half of a foot. He brought a quill with him, and he wrote a few scribbles into the book.

"Name?" He asked.

"Ulrich. Ulrich Stargazer."

"The 20 septims for the ride?" He said.

Harry paid the fee, and waited a bit more.

There were a few more scribbles before he closed the back and set it aside. "You're lucky; the ride yesterday was delayed because of a Mammoth herd travelling the path. In the end it was cancelled because of the vicious attack at the Stormbrewer farm. Shame those attackers; Thorin was a good man. Helped me with I twisted my ankle in the wrong way when I was younger."

Harry gulped hard as he tried to clamp down on his emotions, lest he wanted to start crying in front of this stranger.

"Carriage leaves at afternoon," Jervar continued, oblivious to Harry's state. "Here's your pass."

He gave Harry a folded piece of parchment, before he went back into the house, leaving Harry outside.

"_What a way to start your day." _Harry thought, laughing sarcastically at his unfortunate situation. He walked away, back into the plains. He was too busy with his thoughts, his unlucky situation, and never realized he had walked right to the Stormbrewer's farm.

Where there was once a vast expanse of land with large, wooden buildings, there now stood a black patch of grass, with the charred remnants of the Stormbrewer home. There were a few bodies on the land, charred black by the flames yesterday.

"_You guys gave them hell."_ Harry thought sadly.

He shook his head, unable to contain it anymore, before he burst out into hysterical laughter. One would've thought he was crazy, but to Harry, it was too much. Somehow, Harry felt this pain all too well, like this had happened to him before. And odd feeling of déjà vu hit him, and he tried to remember; to remember an instance where he'd lost someone in his life.

But he would remember nothing.

His laughter soon turned to tears as he just sat there, in front of the burned land of his very first friends; family, since waking up without memories in Skyrim.

Hours passed with just Harry sitting there, alone, as he sat sullenly before the Stormbrewer farm.

"_This is the last time," _He thought bitterly. _"That I depend on someone to take care of me. This is the last time."_

He hardened his heart as he focused on his goals.

_Get to Winterhold._

_Find out who you are._

_Kill Hajvarr._

His goals were simple, and assuming everything went according to plan, Harry would have his revenge.

He stood up and went back inside Whiterun, seeing as departure from Whiterun to Winterhold was not for another few hours. He went around the various shops in the city and bought everything he needed. He bought a cloak, to at least hide him from the cold atmosphere in Winterhold. He bought a new pack, though nothing was in it, and he had the sword that was given to him by Hajvarr's thugs sharpened. All of those were for 50 good septims, a couple of clothes included.

00-00

The line to the terminals for the carriages was a bit long, considering as there were carriages being filled up because of the cancellation yesterday. So, carriages bound for Solitude, Markarth and Winterhold were provided, with Whiterun soldiers guarding the area in case the bandits got bold again.

"Please, stay calm. You'll get your turn to ride." One of them said, as they tried to control a raging woman going on and on about how she was being treated unfairly and some other nonsense.

Harry rolled his eyes as the woman persisted, and quietly waited for his turn as he chewed slightly on his lower lip, just waiting patiently. Jervar was at the front of the line and calling out names from his book, before he directed the person he'd called to the carriage he or she was supposed to board.

It didn't take long for it to be Harry's turn next, and he allowed himself to be guided slowly to the carriage that would take him to Winterhold. His cloak billowed behind him as the wind blew against him. He didn't feel cold or heat, but that was probably being because of his thick cloak. The leather strap that kept the cloak on his weighed heavily down on his chest as took a more relaxed position in the carriage.

He blew a relaxed sigh as he counted the minutes before they began to depart from the station, lowering his head slightly as he tried to himself to sleep.

Hours passed into a full day, before finally, on the third day of their travel, the sun fell from the heavens and the moons glowed brightly above them, casting a wonderful light that the driver of the carriage sorely needed to maneuver his way through the snow that was slowly starting to increase in the frequency they were seen. The manageable cold air of Whiterun was soon replaced by the freezing temperatures of the North, and the passengers of the carriage held the cloaks tightly around them.

"Excuse me good sir, but how much further?" asked a woman beside Harry.

The driver turned around before answering her question.

"Just a few more hours' milady, before we make it to Winterhold. We've rested too long a couple of miles back, and I fear we are a bit behind schedule milady." He said.

The lady smiled, silently thanking the driver before she returned to consuming the loaf of bread she had with her, and Harry was hit with a slight wave of hunger. In truth, he hadn't thought that the journey from Whiterun to Winterhold would take days upon days, and so, he hadn't thought to pack any food besides from a few apples. The driver of the carriage was kind enough to give him a piece of bread or two in their short breaks, and it did wonders for Harry's stomach.

And Harry showed his gratitude by helping the driver whenever he could, which the driver appreciated.

He dozed off into an uneasy sleep as the cold winds of the North blew against him.

00-00

"Hey lad, wake up. We're here."

Harry opened his eyes rather slowly, and yawned as he looked around him.

"_This is Winterhold?" _He asked to himself, feeling rather surprised at how…devastated the town appeared. Granted, it was organized and what not, but come on! It looked like some mighty giant walked straight up here before smashing his club around.

"This is Winterhold?" He asked aloud, this time directing the question to the driver.

The man looked at him, as if supposed to say 'duh, stupid.'

Harry just shrugged and hopped down from the carriage. "I thought it'd be bigger, having a school for College and all."

The driver shrugged as he moved towards the driver's seat in the front. "You must be a newcomer if you don't know what's happened here." Harry drew his cloak around him tighter as he watched the driver. "That College…heh, ain't anything about it that seems good for the folk around here. It's not in my place to tell you what's happened here, so it'd be best for you to talk to someone here. Watch what you say though, as it could get people here angry at you. I best be off, stranger. See you around."

Harry watched as the driver turned the carriage around, and slowly drove it off down the road.

"Wait! Aren't you staying?" He asked.

The driver turned to look at him before saying, "No! There be no place here to keep me horses! They'd shiver to death! It's been hours since we got here! Just thought it wise not to wake you since it's nearly sun rise! I have to go back to Whiterun for me next job! See you lad!"

Harry watched as the he drove away, not quite sure what he thought of the man's statement. He shrugged it off after a while.

"_It's none of my business I suppose."_

He turned around, and loosened his hold on the cloak a little bit as the winds died down to a manageable degree. It was still deathly cold though.

The sun had not risen yet, and Harry supposed the people of the college would still lay asleep in their beds, so he decided till the sun had set, and he had viable information about Winterhold. The snow was falling a bit slowly, but the amount of it that had accumulated on the streets during the night was at least knee high. In short, he had a hard time as he walked around, trying to explore everything there was to explore in Winterhold (granted, there was almost nothing to explore with how small it was). The guards laughed at his endeavor to reach the inn, and did little to actually help him. And as soon as he stepped onto the steps to the inn, they laughed louder before they swept all the ice away.

Harry hissed disdainfully at them, before entering the inn.

A warm breeze of air hit his face pleasantly, and he smiled as he found the source of it was a fire burning lightly in the middle of the room. He approached it, lifting his hands as he felt for the warmth of the fire.

"You must be one of the travelers from Whiterun." Said a man behind the counter.

Harry nodded at him, but never made a move to remove himself from his current position. It was very pleasing thank you very much.

The man laughed at him. "There's some soup boiling up right now. If you want any, it's just two septims. Grab a seat if you'd like."

Harry, at the thought of food, laughed and hurriedly took a seat on a barstool. The man went through a door, before coming back out with a pot full of soup. He set a bowl in front of the young wizard, and filled it with bright red steaming liquid. Harry could just make out the shapes of potatoes, chicken, and a little bit of carrot there.

"Murklair Soup, one of the specialties here. Tomatoes, exotic spices from Hammerfell and a touch of other odd spices from Cyrodiil gives it a rather unique flavor. It's on the spicy side of things, but it's not too hot. Enjoy. I'll just be out for a while. Here's a slice of bread," he laid the bread down in front of Harry. "See you later."

He left the room quickly, and left the young wizard alone. There were a couple of people starting to wake up, and most of them were walking up to the fire in the middle of the room for some warmth.

Harry sat there silently, watching as people started entering the inn and getting some breakfast, while others (warriors, mostly) went in to catch an early morning pint of mead. It was an amusing sight for Harry as he watched women shaking their heads disdainfully at the loud warriors.

"So what're you here for?" Said the man behind the counter.

Harry looked at him, confused for a second, before a look of comprehension crossed his face. "Sorry, was just lost in my thoughts." He picked up his mug filled with water and drank from it. He set it down on the counter as he answered. "The Co-"

He was interrupted by the man suddenly put a mouth on his mouth, whilst he put a finger on his lips. The man whispered furiously to Harry, making sure no one else heard.

"Listen, my friend. Judging by how you just nearly got everyone in town angry at you, I assume you're new here?" The man asked. At Harry's nod, he continued. "Well my friend, the people around here; they don't like mages. And they don't like that College. It's gotten some people here killed, and many believe that they were the cause for Winterhold's destruction."

"I don't follow." Harry whispered to the man.

The man shook his head, checking once again if anyone was eavesdropping on them. "Look, all you need to know my friend, is that College is a bad thing for the people 'round here. I don't have anything against it, but people usually get into brawls here in the inn because of it. The Nords here don't like mages, thinking them cowards and the like. They don't like the College most especially, because they think it to be the cause of a tragedy long ago." He whispered frantically to Harry.

Harry nodded, understanding what the man just said. The man nodded and whispered once more.

"You best be go now, and sneak into the College before the more…_eccentric… _towns people wake up."

He waved Harry off, and pushed him out the door. "I'm sorry that you couldn't stay any longer, but I fear for your life if anyone but the guards see you. The guards are biased in their opinions themselves, but they at least practice restraint." The man said, before closing the door behind him.

Harry just stared after him, and thought _"That was the most confusing, but informative, conversation I have ever had."_

He shrugged and walked up the street, towards the College. Hope started to build up in him, and he never noticed the advice of the man in the inn was right; nearly all the people in the street were guards. No civilian had yet to come out of their homes.

The path to the College was pretty straightforward, and as Harry looked at the caste-like structure, he felt a little bit intimated and awed at the sight. The snow that fell from the heavens collected on the tops of what appeared to be major buildings, and he saw tiny figures of students thawing the ice.

He walked through and archway, smiling slightly at the invincible feeling it brought to him, and he climbed more steps, reaching what looking like a well, the only difference being the luminous blue light that shot up through it. It was like a beam that reached the heavens themselves, and was like a beacon for everyone wishing to learn magic.

Harry's hopes built up inside him as he saw someone approaching him from afar. The person approaching him had pointed ears and green-like skin. She wore black mage's robes and had yellow eyes. Her hair…well her hair looked funny if you ever saw it.

"State your business." She said.

Harry's hope lessened at this, but he would not be deterred so easily. He'd come so far, and endured a crap load of things to come here. To give up just because this…lady didn't know him would be like giving up on life itself.

"Uhmm, I was just going to ask if I was a student here." Harry dumbly said.

The girl in front of her raised a thin eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest. "I think I'd remember every student that's passed my test." She said.

Okay, so maybe that wasn't the best approach to this.

Harry looked like a fish for a moment before he cleared his throat and spoke up.

"I'm in the middle of a quest, madam, and a friend of mine told me to come here to look for some answers. I was ho-"

"If it isn't business related to the school than forgive me for not letting you in." The woman said.

"No, please. If you could just let me talk to the Arch Mage." Harry said. _"At least talking to him would be a little easier than to talk with you. You're on the grumpy side of things this morning."_

The woman huffed up in annoyance and sneered at Harry as she replied, "As I said, school business or you go aw-"

"Now now Faralda, you shouldn't be too hard on potential students." A new voice said, and Harry turned his attention to an old man with long white hair, and a thick beard that was tied tightly at the tip.

The woman growled at him, as she exclaimed, "Rules are rules Tolfdir. You know this!"

The man laughed a hearty laugh, and he passed a piece of parchment to the woman. "The Arch Mage specifically asked that he be brought up to his quarters. Don't ask, because I don't know why." The man said.

He nodded to Harry, and together, they walked ahead, away from the rude woman.

"Forgive me if I seem too inquisitive, but what business do you have with the Arch Mage?" The old man asked.

Harry truly didn't know. He had goals to achieve that had the Arch mage in it, sure, but that doesn't explain how the Arch Mage knew him to be able to send him up to his quarters.

"I don't really know. I came here following a friend's advice, and that is my business with the Arch Mage. What his business is with me is a mystery to me now." Harry answered truthfully. He didn't elaborate further what HIS business was with the Arch Mage, and the old man didn't push.

They walked through a courtyard, where students and teachers alike were spending their around, just walking and reading books. Soon, they traversed through a set of doors, which led to massive chamber. Harry had unfortunately, one good look at it before the old man led him through a door and up a flight of stairs and finally, straight in the Arch Mage's quarters.

The room reeked of tranquility as odd trinkets and books littered the shelves.

Harry didn't have much time to look around and appreciate his surroundings, when a deep, but otherwise comforting voice filled the room.

"Leave us for a moment Tolfdir."

The old man nodded, and walked out through the door, closing it silently behind him.

Harry stood there, his cloak beginning to get soak with water as the ice on his shoulders melted. The pack still hung on his back, and the sword he acquired from Hajvarr hung at his side, still safely secured in its sheathe.

"Imagine my surprise, young mage, when I received a courier message from Thorin Stormbrewer, an old friend of mine, a few days ago, detailing his encounter with a strange boy."

The man had his back turned to Harry as he rapped his fingers across books, as if he were choosing one of them.

"A boy, he said, that held unimaginable power. He'd need to be trained, to be looked after and taught the ways of Tamriel before he can begin his true journey. Those were the last requests Thorin had for me, before he passed to Sovngarde."

Harry bit his lip, unable to think of Thorin right now. He had to concentrate!

"And then, news of his passing arrived here, in Winterhold, and I sat shocked as I learned bandits were the cause. Bandits, that I believe had more than one motive that day they murdered Thorin."

Harry's anger spiked up to new levels as he looked at the back of the Arch Mage. "What do you mean?" He asked through gritted teeth.

The Arch Mage turned to look at him, and said, "When you're ready" before he returned to choosing a book.

Harry shook his head angrily, his control moving away from him. "I'm ready now!"

"Are you really? Are you that prepared to take a life out of anger? Are you that prepared…that ready to combat the darker side of you, a side that would consume you if you go down the path I know you intend to travel."

Harry remained silent, but he was otherwise still angry. The man finally chose a book, but he did not read it, he instead turned to Harry with a look of understanding on his face.

"We all want to avenge what we've lost, young mage. But never let vengeance consume you. You will die a most horrible death."

Harry controlled his ragged breathing as he looked at the carpet, reigning in his emotions. He knew the man was right. Anything done out of the need of vengeance was as good as murder.

He never saw the man smiling slightly at him. "My name is Savos Aren, Arch mage of the College of Winterhold. At your service, young mage." The man said.

Harry raised his head, and said, "My name's Ulrich S-"

"There is no need to lie to me, Mr. Potter." The Arch Mage said. "I am thoroughly aware of who you are, and the circumstances surrounding your quest to recover what you've lost."

Harry looked at him wide eyed.

"Don't worry, only I know of it. When I said I received a letter from Thorin detailing you, I meant _everything _about you. And I'll do everything in my power to help you in your quest. Thorin mentioned something about training, and that is what I shall do." The Arch Mage said.

"Training? No no, Thorin said I would find answers here!" said Harry as he stared after the Arch Mage.

The Arch Mage in turn, just smiled sadly at Harry. "Unfortunately, your situation with your mind is not something I can deal with easily. The answers you seek, Mr. Potter, are not found here. Not in Skyrim. You'll need someone who specializes with the arts of the mind, and unfortunately, the 'experts' we have here lack the materials my friend has."

"What are you saying?" Harry asked a bit fearfully.

"What I'm saying, Mr. Potter, is that I will train you personally in the magic of Skyrim. Your magic is different from what I've deduced, and so, to ensure that the operation to regain your memories goes by safely, you need to be finely attuned with Tamriel's magic." The Arch Mage said quite quickly.

Harry just stared at him, not knowing what to do anymore. He'd expected to find answers here…right now!

"So, your friend, he's the only one who can help me?" Harry finally asked.

The Arch Mage nodded.

"And just where is your friend?" Harry asked, fearing the answer.

The Arch Mage, with no trace of a smile on his face, looked at Harry.

"The Imperial Capital...in Cyrodiil."

**A/N: Here's another chapter fellas. I hope you like it (Evil Laugh)**

**First, I'd like to say that there will be quite an amount years skipped in the next chapter, as I'm building the ideal Harry now for the story. The time skipped won't be too big, 4 years at the most, just to build up Harry's skills. Oh and the change Harry will have won't be TOO big. No enormous muscles and an inflated ego or something like that. He won't be a babe magnet either. Just, improved. **

**As before, review! And to all those reviewing, I don't think I've properly thanked you yet…so…(drum rolls) Thank you!**

**Tell me what you think guys. Complaints, requests, thoughts, ideas and whatnot, bring em to the review page. **

**Want me to write you a personal story? Play with you online? Message me. **

**Okay, so maybe that was a lie. My PS3 and XBOX broke down long ago. My pc's quite crap so yeah. Happy New Year fellas!**


	5. Power

**CHAPTER 5**

**Power**

"Let the magic flow through you. Feel the energy connect with your center. Now, try to pull that center along your body, and let it travel straight to your palms."

…

"Now look at your hands."

Harry opened his, letting them adjust to the light in the room and from being closed for so long, before he glanced at his hands. Just like the many times he and Savos have done this, a burning ball of bright red fire was within his hands. It took every bit of concentration he had to maintain that flame.

And just like that, it was gone.

He pouted disdainfully, feeling annoyance once again. Savos merely smiled at him, and created a ball of fire in his hands.

"Remember, -"

"Magic takes concentration and practice. Practice until it becomes second nature." Harry chorused alongside the Dunmer, smiling a bit as he breathed in deeply. "I know, it's just frustrating to lose my concentration every time I have the spell in my hands."

"Ulrich," Savos said. "Magic takes a lot of time to master. Sure, the others I've taught learned faster than you, but think; you've been used to doing magic in a different way."

Harry nodded, digesting all of what he said. For the month he'd stayed here in the College, he knew far too well how hard it was to even _understand _and _store_ a spell in you. He wasn't even sure how the process works, but it does, so that's something.

"You need patience, young mage. The Arcane Arts is not like sword fighting where after a few lessons you'll have managed to _do_ something." Savos said. He dismissed Harry with a wave of his hand. "That is all for tonight, Ulrich. You've progressed greatly since the first time I've taught you."

Harry nodded, gave his thanks and bid his goodbyes before he left the Arch Mage's quarters. As he walked down the cold stone steps, still clutching the book he had about fire spells, Harry thought back to the month he'd spent here in the College. The bitter news that he'd have to travel all the way to the Imperial City in Cyrodiil shattered Harry's heart immensely. He was kidnapped by bandits, forced to face off against an undead warrior, had gotten his friends' family killed, and travelled for three cold days to get here, all for the news that he'd have to travel back down south, through the mountains and through the borders, to get to the Arch Mage's friend in the Imperial City. It was a very cranky Harry in those first few days in the College, and almost everyone left him alone.

Savos had set him up with a room of his own in the Hall of Attainment. Unlike other students here, he was a 'special case' due to him not knowing _any_ spells from Tamriel. In fact, he didn't know _anything_ at all concerning the magic here. Not many knew of his 'special case' status of course. Only the most trusted teachers got to know, and they were…Tolfdir and…nope, no one else. He and Savos tag teamed to teach Harry what they could, and so far, they were successful.

No one was suspicious of him and his curious background history, as he never took Faralda's test, so they just passed it off as one of the Arch Mage's 'good' decisions. He made a couple of friends here, mainly just J'zargo and Nirya. It was from them that Harry learned exactly why he was labeled as a 'good' decision of the Arch Mage: because it took all the attention of their resident Aldmeri Dominion advisor from the students' weird experiments to Harry himself.

The Altmer wasn't nosy or anything, he was just very observant. He'd ask Harry sometimes, but as per Savos' instructions, he never told him anything. After a few days and everything about Harry sank in on everyone, the elf started to turn his attention back to the students, much to their dismay.

Harry just smiled slightly when he noticed the elf not giving him curious looks anymore, often just watching the other students. He guessed that he was already flagged by the elf as a suspicious character, and for once he was glad that the elf's attention was elsewhere besides him at the moment.

He walked slowly towards the Hall of Attainment, letting the cold winds beat against him as he surveyed the courtyard. The statue of the first Arch Mage of the College stood in the middle, and Harry took a long glance at the sculpture, appreciating the intricate designs on it. He entered the hall, climbing up some steps before he entered the dormitories. Students were still up and about, reading, eating and some were even practicing low level spells.

"Ulrich," a rather hoarse voice said.

"J'zargo." Harry replied, nodding curtly to the Khajiit.

"How goes you…well, whatever it is you do with the Arch Mage?" The Khajiit asked.

Harry shrugged, not really in the mood to say anything. "It was fine."

"I wish you just tell me what you two are up to." The Khajiit said, bearing his teeth a bit as he groaned.

"Can't." Harry simple said, walking into his room before he lied down on his bed. He popped open the book, not wanting his imaginative mind to wander to thoughts of Thorin, his memories, and going to Cyrodiil.

_The Fire Spells- A type of destruction spell that consumes the least amount of Magicka of the three types of Destruction spells. Fire Spells travel at an average velocity and inflict damage on contact as well as over time. The very basic of the Fire Spells is Flames. It produces gouts of fire that inflict damage on contact as well as over a short amount of time. _

_To use the Fire Spell, an intermediate skill in meditation is required to 'find' the burning sensation within one's core. Repeated meditation and practice on calling forth the burning sensation to the palms of your hands is recommended, as any accidental lapses in concentration can result in the spell backfiring. _

_Chapter 4-13 shall illustrate the meditative techniques in acquiring the Fire Spell. Although incantations for the Spell exist, more mages of this era are finding it much more useful to not say any incantations, as an opponent would be alarmed of what you are going to cast, and may defend against it. _

Harry read and reread that last paragraph. He wondered briefly if _his_ sort of magic can be cast non-verbally. He'd ask help from Savos tomorrow. He closed the book and took another one from his desk. It was now about Lightning and its uses in combat, defense, and warding.

_Shock spells, also known as Lightning spells, of simply Lightning, is the biggest Magicka consumer of the three types of Destruction Magic. _

Harry skipped a few pages, not really wanting to read the introduction.

_-the greatest application of lightning in combat, is with the use of water. During the Third Era in Tamriel, it became largely ideal for mages to fight others near water bodies such as rivers, lakes, and sometimes even on beaches. It was through manipulating their environments (or sometimes, their enemies themselves) to have their opponents fall into said bodies of water, before casting a lightning spell. It multiplies the damage inflicted on the opponent and makes for an easy kill, as some Battle Mages state. _

_It is also quite applicable to freeze your enemy, turn the ice into water using Fire, and then cast a lightning spell on them. This technique, however, is not widely used due to the amount of Magicka used, or as discussed in the previous chapter, our energy. Battle Mages favor this technique when fighting an opponent in a 'to the death' competition held in the 'Arena' events of the Imperial City, as it makes for a quick kill. _

_Like Fire is to fire resistance, and Ice is to ice resistance, Lightning is also ineffective against lightning resistant creatures. It is however, possible still to acquire a kill._

Harry closed the book again, feeling a slight migraine coming along.

00-00

_Ten Months Later…_

"Come, Stargazer! Is that the best you have?"

Harry grit his teeth in anger, sending a massive ball of fire towards his trainer. He never even felt the drain on his energy, or the heat the fire produced, wanting nothing more than to prove himself to the Arch Mage.

Savos simply slapped the fire aside with a shield, quickly summoning a Flame Atronach with one hand as he sent lightning bolts towards Harry with the other.

The young mage was forced to dive out of the way, unable to conjure a shield. He rolled right into the path of the Atronach, and had only a moment of movement before the creature burned him alive.

Wide eyed and panting, the wizard tried freezing the Atronach, only for it thaw it all from its body as it screamed. It raised his hand and sent fireballs raging towards Harry.

The boy ducked, jumped, rolled away and tried blocking but to no avail. He'd forgotten one other major player in their training session: Savos himself.

The Arch Mage froze the boy's feet where he stood, and started sending fireballs, sharp shafts of ice and lightning bolts at him.

He blocked, he dodged before he finally succumbed to his desire for rest and Harry let himself be hit by the lightning bolt, feeling the energy as it ran up to his body and sent his nerves on fire. He screamed out pain, and fell down to the ground, barely taking notice of the ice on his feet melting.

Panting, he looked up at Savos, who was smiling at him.

"You've lasted longer than last time, so I believe that was an improvement. Good job, Stargazer." He said.

Harry scrunched his face up in pain, as the Arch Mage helped him up. "I-I just don't understand, why I have to do this."

"I've told you before; my friend in the Imperial City requires all his patients to have a certain affinity with Magicka. If I understand the notes he'd sent my way on his research, a vast amount of energy is needed to fully unlock one's mind. However, I myself do not understand how he does this, only that he does, and he has done it successfully in the past."

Harry nodded, as they got off the roof and headed towards the Arch Mage's quarters. Savos sat Harry down on a chair as he went off to his shelves, taking bottles filled with liquids that Harry did not know.

"You've learned much from your time here, I must say. You've surpassed my expectations, and Tolfdir is excited more than ever for me to hand over your training to him. He's thrilled to help someone learn magic from the bottom up. I've sworn him to secrecy of course." Savos said, finally pulling out a bottle filled with blue liquid. "Here we go; drink it. It should help with the drain on your energy."

Harry instantly downed the small bottle in one gulp, feeling the slimy substance trail down his throat to his chest like molten lava.

"That is most horrible." He said, scrunching his face in disgust.

"Yes, Energy Restoration potions do taste foul. But they help." Savos said, taking a seat of his own.

There was a long moment of silence as the Arch Mage grabbed a book to read, and Harry sat uncomfortably on the chair, letting the potion do its work. Already he could feel the effects, and he was slowly losing the headache he had.

"Do you think it will work?" Harry finally asked.

The Arch Mage raised his brows at him, not quite hearing the question.

"Do you think whatever your friend will do would work? To me I mean? To my memories."

Savos closed his book and sighed, before he stood and started rummaging through his bookshelf again, trying to find a book.

"The workings of the mind boggles even the best scholars. The mind holds unimaginable power that has yet to be unlocked by any of us. Many believe that all of us here on Tamriel are only using a small amount of our mind. I quite agree." The Arch Mage finally stopped rummaging through the shelf, finding a book that finally would suit his need. He kept his back on Harry and stared at the book, as if contemplating something. Finally, he turned and looked at Harry, revealing the small, leather-bound book in his hands.

"I know not for certain if anything my friend does to you would yield any success. However, Mr. Potter, in the event that you find yourself at a loss and don't know what to do anymore, read this book, and your path shall be righted." said Savos, handing Harry the leather-bound book as he dismissed Harry with a wave.

Harry went back to his dormitories, feeling quite tired and confused by the turn of events. He held the book in his hand, and looked at the cover. There was no title, there was no seal, and there was no indication of it being a published book.

"A diary then?" He asked himself as he climbed up the steps, to the dormitories, before he settled himself on his bed. Like many times before, the students were still up and about, playing music and did other merry making activities as they celebrated the Thalmor advisor's 'accident' in the kitchens earlier that day. Some even drank some ale that was smuggled in from the town.

But Harry paid no attention to them. He had long been labeled as an out-going person once he'd cooled down from learning that he had to go to Cyrodiil for his memories, and many knew that when he needed some time along, he _really_ needed some time along. No, it was better to not mingle for now, especially after how tired he was. It was that and the fact that his attention was still fixated on the book he was staring at.

He opened the book, feeling _quite _lost at the moment.

_A blank page?_ He thought. He turned the page again, but found yet another blank page. He turned, again and again and again, but found no page with any writings of any sort.

He put the book down with a huff, before he just sighed and threw the book into the trunk beside his bed, not feeling quite okay at the moment.

"Can J'zargo interest his friend with a pint?" His Khajiit friend suddenly said, as he walked into the small room. He handed Harry a mug, before he sat down on the foot of Harry's bed.

J'zargo reminded him somewhat of his old companion, Dar'asha. How was she coping with _her_ loss? From what he'd gathered before he left Whiterun, Falkreath too was indeed attacked by bandits, with two houses being burned down to the ground. He wondered for a moment if by any chance Dar'asha was searching for Argon and him out there, trying to find two of her companions in a world that just wanted to take a piss at her.

And whenever Harry thought of the female Khajiit, his thoughts turned to that of the other companion, Argon. He felt bad for abandoning the guy in the inn at Whiterun, knowing full well that it was the stress and anger talking to him that night. And he regretted his actions a bit, now that he thought about. Harry should've been the one to have the emotional control, and try to talk to the guy. They should've stayed longer in Whiterun, and planned to search for Dar'asha. But they didn't, and instead, Harry left.

What's done was done, Harry mused.

"Is J'zargo's friend alright?" the Khajiit asked, looking quite worried over at Harry. "You look quite sick my friend."

Yes, indeed. In truth he didn't feel well from the massive energy drain on him. You try training for three hours, and then be thrown right into a battle situation against the Arch Mage himself.

"Yeah. Just tired is all." Harry said, taking a drink from the mug. He had grown quite tolerant to mead over the past months, what with having crazy students running around celebrating every little victory they had against their resident Thalmor advisor. They passed mead and ale around like they were in a tavern, and they sang like the drunk patrons of the inn in town.

"J'zargo still wonders when you are going to tell J'zargo what you and the Arch Mage are doing." The Khajiit said, looking quite miffed about not knowing Harry's secrets.

"It's a secret. You'll need to figure it out on your own." Harry said, smiling at the scowling man…err man-lion.

"Come, Ulrich, J'zargo will show you beautiful new Nord student. Come, come." He said, rising up from the bed as he brought Harry with him.

"I don't think that's a good idea, J'zargo." Harry said as he struggled to stop spilling some of his mead on the floor.

"Oh Hilda! J'zargo has special friend for you!"

And with that, Harry joined in on the small party, completely forgetting how tired he was…and the book that the Arch Mage just gave him.

_Two Years Later_

"So, you just set the guard's cloak on fire?"

"Well, he did insult Nirya first. It was only payback! Besides, he couldn't prove it was me, since I didn't technically use any Magicka on him."

"But you used _Magic?_"

"Nope."

"Now is not the time to joke."

"Uhmm…yeah I used _my_ magic on him."

Savos Aren sighed as he buried his head into his hands.

"I've told you before, just a month ago in fact- just because you've managed to attain high levels in your training does not mean you should abuse it."

"But I used _my _sort of magic."

"I helped hone your skills with that." Savos reminded.

"But..but.."

"Nothing. Now go back to your dormitories. Blade Master Kirya will be arriving here at sunset tomorrow. I don't need to stress how important your sword training is do I?"

"Why do I need sword training? I have two hands to use; one for your magic, and one for my magic. Isn't that deadly enough?" Harry asked.

"Magic can only do so much when enemies are resistant to magic itself. Now go."

Harry groaned, not really seeing how swords could help him. He had his magic didn't he? That was good enough for him. He left the room, intending to meet his friends in the dormitories.

00-00

"Ah, Ulrich. Here you are. This is Blade Master Kirya, and this Blade Master, is the student I wished for you to tutor; Ulrich Stargazer."

The woman, standing at five foot six inches reached out with a hand at Harry. She was a Dark Elf, and from what was immediately obvious about her, was that she was muscular. For a second, a slight pang of fear entered Harry's heart as he shook hands with the Elf, surprised by how strong her grip was. She smiled at him; a predatory smile.

"Pleasure to meet you. I am Kirya No'Langme, I shall be your teacher."

Harry was now more alarmed at her intimidating size.

Savos clapped his hands together, smiling at both of them. "Let's do this then, shall we?"

Harry nodded, if a bit unsure. He was a bit scared, to be honest, especially with how she looked.

She turned her back on him, and took two short swords from the ground. She threw one to him, and he examined it with a critical eye. It looked new; its blade was shiny, and it reflected Harry's face perfectly.

He took off his mage's robes, and shivered in the cold winds of Winterhold. The black tunic he wore was not sufficient for the harsh cold winds, and the thin fabric of his pants didn't help any better.

They nodded to each other once, and Harry' expecting a lesson, was shocked when Kirya rushed him.

Fear overwhelmed Harry as he stumbled backwards, and fell flat on his back as Kirya pointed the tip of her sword to his throat.

"Lesson One: Never let anything intimidate you. Fear overwhelms the senses, pushing you to rush decisions." She backed away from him, hopping up and down on her toes, swinging her sword loosely from side to side. "Come, newbie. Stand up."

Harry growled as he stood, getting into a stance as he flared up his hand with magic.

"Oh, that's right. You're a mage."

Harry sent a few bolts of low powered lightning at her, hitting her blade with deadly precision. He grinned, but slowly just donned a mask of pure shock.

Kirya smirked at him, nodding to her sword. "Lightning resistant."

She charged at him once more, and Harry his best to defend. He parried strikes, shielded against them, and when she was close enough, he tried magic. She either dodged them, or deflected them with her blade.

A punch to Harry's chest knocked the wind out of him, and he stumbled backwards, only for Kirya to grip the front of his robe.

"Lesson number Two: Be mindful of your surroundings."

When Harry looked around him, he had to stifle a scared gasp. He was standing on the very edge of the roof. His breath hitched up in his throat as he looked around, panicking quite a bit. Kirya pulled him back roughly back on the roof, and fell down hard to the ground.

"And don't panic, it rushes you." She said.

Harry, quite angry now, rushed her, raising his sword above his head; abandoning any sort of strategy as he resolved to just bashing her with multiple swipes and magical attacks.

It was very humiliating indeed when he got kicked in the chest later on.

_Two Years Later_

It was a very different Harry Potter or Ulrich Stargazer as he was called in this town, who walked into Savos Aren's quarters. He held an air of confidence around him, as he stood tall before the Arch Mage. He wore modified Mage's Robes, which were covered very light leather armor, designed and made by Harry himself. Shoulder pads and braces covered his muscled (but still lean) arms, and the sword he earned from his time in Bleak Falls Barrow hung loosely by his side. He looked at the Arch Mage with bright, emerald eyes.

Savos Aren looked at the man before him; Kirya No'Langme had trained him well. In all honesty, he was not very good with swords, he was adept, yes, but he was not the expert Kirya hoped him to be. He had developed physically rather well, what with Kirya pushing him to his limits and the food Savos himself forced down Harry's throat. He was a far cry from the boy who walked into his quarters Four Years ago.

He was ready.

**A/N: Sorry for cutting it here. **

**Well, there you go. The five chapter long prologue is done. This chapter specifically, is rushed beyond measure, as I just wanted to churn this out well before New Year. I'm sorry. **

**As before, review review review. **

**Gavoon- thank you for the deduction. I'll be sure to try harder next chapter.**

**Takai01- thanks for letting me know. At least that's one of my problems gone ^_^ **

**To the others who reviewed the story both through mail and through the review function for the story, thank you! **

**This is not beta'd nor has it been edited in anyway. So, the mistakes are mine.**


	6. An Unexpected Party

**CHAPTER 6**

**An Unexpected Party**

* * *

"You wanted to see me, sir?"

Savos beamed brightly up at him, standing up and opening his arms wide. "Ulrich! You're here! Wonderful!"

Harry nodded and shook his hand, a smile gracing his lips as well.

"Sit! Sit! We have much to discuss. But first I would like you to meet a couple of friends of mine." Savos said, sitting down on his chair as Harry took the offered seat in front of it. People, well, old people, sat around the Arch Mage's quarters with friendly smiled on their faces.

"_It seems like they were in the middle of a discussion before I arrived." _Harry quietly thought.

Savos gestured to the six people surrounding them. "These are my friends, young Ulrich, from a time where I was filled with much spirit for adventure and discovery." He said. "This is Masters Devas," he pointed a thin, wryly Dunmer male with one of the biggest smiles Harry had ever seen in his time in Skyrim.

"Agrane," he pointed to a balding tall man hidden under orange priest's robes. The pointed look of his features showed a great deal of mischief in his eyes.

"Tristyn," He was another Breton with broad shoulders. Unlike the other Breton before him, he had a thick mop of brown hair that was tied tightly into a single braid.

For the rest of the introductions, Harry tuned the Arch Mage out, not really wanting to hear more about the men in the room. Aside from the man the Arch Mage introduced as Agrane, everyone in the room gave him looks that disturbed him greatly. They were calculating, long looks that simply tried to bore into one's soul, and Harry did not like any of it.

So he didn't care who they were.

He simply sat there, giving the occasional nod and polite smile to each one of the people the Arch Mage introduced, before Savos finally sat comfortably into his seat and cleared his throat, catching everyone's attention.

"Ulrich, these are the people that will be travelling with us to Cyrodiil. I've invited them to come along in our journey to the Arcane College in the Imperial City, as they would like to continue their studies there. I hope you don't mind the little extra company." He started.

Harry only nodded. He didn't particularly care about these people, and frankly, he felt that they didn't care about him or Savos either. The vibes he felt from them strongly suggested a more personal goal than just tagging along with the Arch Mage and his Apprentice to their destination in the Imperial City.

"I don't mind sir." Harry said.

Savos beamed happily at him, though it was a bit forced.

"Good, good! We shall leave for Dawnstar tomorrow then! I have spoken to a young Captain and have acquired his services to take us to and from Cyrodiil." He said cheerily, waving the six people in the room dismissively.

"Take some rest, my friends. It is quite a long journey tomorrow."

As soon as they left, the cheerful demeanor Savos displayed was replaced by a tired, worn out looking face. He sighed in silent relief and held his head in his hands, rubbing his face softly.

Harry chuckled at him in amusement, crossing his arms over his chest. "You sure have a way with picking your company." Harry said.

"I needed to make your visit to Cyrodiil appear like an educational one. It wouldn't do to have many people asking uncomfortable questions, thus my 'friends.'"

"Friends?" asked Harry.

"They aren't really my friends…they're more of an acquaintance. The only times I've had a conversation with any of them was when they needed to borrow a book or ask some questions about the latest discoveries of the College." Savos said, exasperated.

"Why have them around then?" asked Harry, genuinely curious.

"As you know," the Arch Mage began tiredly, standing up from his seat and moving to put aside the scattered books on his table. "I was in need of a good excuse to say to Imperial guards when we arrive at Cyrodiil. The only 'acceptable' excuse I could think of was an educational one. The old men who were here a while ago would help reinforce that idea."

Harry furrowed his brow. "I don't understand."

Savos turned to look at him. "We'll be pretending to be people who are eager to learn about the magic in the Arcane College. Well, you and the men here earlier will be. I will be your advisor so to speak."

"So if anyone asks, we're there because we wanted to learn of a few more things, and the old men are here to help support that lie? I get it." Harry said, a slight smirk gracing his features.

Savos nodded, smiling at Harry before concern crossed his face. "Are you quite alright young mage? You're not your usual rambunctious self today."

Harry nodded. "I'm just a bit tired. J'zargo had me help him test out his scrolls. Took a lot out of me trying to fight off the Atronachs it conjured."

Savos chuckled lightly. "Ah yes, J'zargo and his experiments. Well, you best be off to sleep young mage. We have a long day tomorrow. I trust you've already packed?"

"Yes."

"Good, good. Wouldn't do to waste time." Savos happily exclaimed, putting all the books he had back into their rightful places.

"Do you think it will work?" Harry asked nervously, trying to swallow away the fear and anticipation he felt for what would happen in Cyrodiil.

The Arch Mage turned to look at Harry once more. "Whatever has you so scared, young one?"

"That it might not work. I know you'll welcome me here, in the College, but it would be nice to actually know my past, and where I really belong." Harry said.

"I know not of what will happen," Savos started, leaning down in front of Harry. "Just know this; our doors are always open to you."

_Our doors are always open to you…_

_Always open to you…_

_Open to you…_

The words still echoed in Harry's mind long since he had left the Arch Mage's quarters. Hadn't that been what Thorin told him? Hadn't he and his family opened their doors to him? Hadn't they?

It had been four long years since Harry had woken without memories. Four years to the day since he'd become a student of the College. He had made friends, learned magic, visited an ancient city with the help of Tolfdir; many memorable things have occurred in his life.

But it was the small things that reminded him how different he was; _his_ magic, his unknown past, unknown identity. His literal lack of useful knowledge in Skyrim; basically, he lacked any knowledge that was important. He felt alienated in a way, and for years he'd try and tell the Arch Mage he was ready, but for all those times, he was denied. He wasn't ready, wasn't attuned enough to their magic they said. For a long time he didn't believe them, but over time, came to agree. His magic_ was_ different. He didn't know how, but it was.

Magic here was all about determination, concentration, and meditation, things Harry fond hard to do. He doubted his connection with this world since the first time he tried studying Tamrielic magic, and was further eluded by it as he grew. Now all he wanted was his memories back, so he could finally figure out just who he was.

So he let himself be swept by the waves, so to speak. He let Savos call the shots regarding his memories, knowing too well that the man's decision had some merit in them at times. He kept close to his friends, joined in on every party the students threw, drank mead, and for a time, forgot his problems. His past didn't exist, his magic wasn't so different, and he didn't let a friend's family die.

But it was too good to be true.

It was highly ironic that it took only a few days for him to break the promise he made for himself when he was on his knees, staring at the Stormbrewer's farm. He let Savos take care of him, when he was supposed to do things his way from then on.

Harry was, by no means, a bitter and emotional boy. He kept silent most of the time, yes, preferring to sit in the sidelines to observe than to take action without a plan. He could smile, laugh and make jokes whenever he could, but most of the time he kept to himself. Yes, he'd try getting into relationships with different women from time to time, mostly when he was visiting Windhelm as a part of an educational program Savos set up for anyone who wanted to learn.

So here he sat, in his bed as a noisy party raged on around him. Mead and ale were spilling up into the air as students who had one too many started to trip and fall, J'zargo being one of them.

The words of the Arch Mage still echoed in his mind as he tried to get some sleep, the noise becoming a bit too unbearable.

"Would J'zargo's friend like some -hiccup- mead?"

"Not this time J'zargo." Harry said, watching as his friend nodded slowly, before he suddenly fell down to the floor in an unconscious state. He chuckled in amusement before he sighed, rising up from his bed before he lifted J'zargo up from the floor and practically dragged him all the way to his own room.

"You are not drinking ever again my friend. Not while on my watch." Harry silently muttered as he lifted up the Khajiit's heavy feet onto the bed.

He sighed in relief as he wiped a small bead of sweat on his forehead, before he made his back into his own bed and lay down. He did not allow his mind to wander off into unwanted thoughts, and allowed himself to relax as he closed his eyes.

"And just how is the most secretive person in the world?"

Harry had to suppress the urge to groan and cuss loudly in annoyance as he heard the voice. It was that same annoying voice that drawled over Harry ever since J'zargo introduced him to her years ago.

"Hilda." Harry said bitterly, looking at the woman who was leaning against the opening of his room. From the way she was positioned, Harry assumed she had taken the most 'arousing' position she could think of.

"Oh Ulrich…"

Harry rolled his eyes before he tried to tune out her disturbing moans of what was her take on seduction.

"I'm not in the mood, go away."

"You're always not in the mood. I can fix that."

She straddled him and Harry felt himself stiffen, not really expecting a woman as heavy as herself to just do that to him. He liked women who were a bit on the lighter side of things thank you very much.

"Get off." He said threateningly.

Apparently she took one too many mugs of mead, as she burped and the smell of the alcohol was not lost on Harry.

"_She won't remember this then." _Harry thought, pointing the tip of his wand at her stomach. He sent an underpowered stunner her way, before depositing her motionless body outside his room.

"She's passed out. Too much mead." Harry said over his shoulder as he climbed back into his bed and finally slept.

00-00

"J'zargo, I'll be coming back after a month or two! Calm down!" Harry said, trying to get the Khajiit to not make a scene.

"But J'zargo will miss you! Take J'zargo with you!" The Khajiit all but practically screamed. His hand suddenly flew to his head as he groaned in pain.

Harry laughed loudly, along with a few students who joined the small merry making last night. They had all come to see their Arch Mage off; hoping that when they got back, they would have many more things to study.

"That's what you get when you drink too much my much."

"J'zargo would not have got drunk if J'zargo's friend would have joined." The Khajiit pouted playfully.

"On the contrary, I think both of us would be clutching our heads in pain if that ever happened." Harry said. He finally gave his friend a hug and patted his back.

"I'll be back, don't worry. I'll bring something along for you." Harry said. In actuality, he didn't know if he was going to be back, much less bring a gift for his friend. The fact that they were going to do something concerning his mind had sown a fear deep in Harry that he was going to come out of this with a shattered mind.

"Make sure you do. J'zargo will never forgive you for not letting him come to this one."

"_Can't promise you that, my friend. But I'll try."_ Harry thought bitterly.

"Come, come! The carriages to Dawnstar are here! We must hurry if we want to meet the captain early!" Savos said, waving Harry and the old men over to the edge of town.

They said their farewells and walked away, with Harry at the very back. The excited mutterings of the old mages in front of him did nothing to allay his fears. He walked with purpose and practically oozed with power, sure, but inside he was scared. He would just have to put his faith into the Divines for this adventure.

"Four in each Carriage now. That's good." Savos said, guiding each one of the old mages into their carriages. Harry himself was separated from Savos, as three 'eager' mages wanted to sit with the old Arch Mage and ask him questions that would probably bore Harry out of his mind long before the attempt to retrieve his memories.

So for the two day long ride to Dawnstar, he sat with three old mages who had nothing to say besides sprouting questions that Harry would rather he didn't answer. Thankfully, they got the silent message he was trying to send by staying quiet and didn't talk to him for the remainder of their journey, conversing with themselves quietly about matters Harry didn't understand.

The weather was pretty much the same for the duration of their ride: snow, blizzard when they were in a small plain, and then snow again. If it weren't for the fires the mages kept casting ahead of them, Harry figured that they probably would've been lost by now due to the thick snow fall that practically reduced visibility.

The mages would debate loudly whenever someone cast a fire ahead of the carriage to see where they would go. They argued without end about who cast the more powerful spell and whatnot. Harry was tempted to just stand up and set the entire road ahead of them aflame, just so that he could get some sleep.

One threatening look from Savos on the other carriage quelled that temptation.

"When do you think the two sides will start recruiting from us mages? I heard they had magic users in both of their sides, but none as quite knowledgeable such as us intellectuals."

Harry's ears perked up at this side of their conversation. He was well aware of what they were talking about; the Civil War. Anything that concerned the war had something of a special interest in Harry. Ever since hearing the full, grimy details of the Civil War, Harry was very much interested in it…and the truth behind the war. How the Jarl of Windhelm could 'shout' somebody to death was beyond him, but knowing these lands, he'd have to take the words of others for now.

The reasoning behind the war was simple; the banning of the worship of Talos.

It was purely a religious war as Harry understood it. The almighty Empire gets defeated, or 'fought to a draw' as some Imperials like to say, and they sign a stupid treaty that basically banned one of the Divines they believed in. In doing so, they practically turned their own people against them!

And couldn't they just smell the ulterior motives of the Aldmeri Dominion on this one? It was as if they wanted their enemy to fight amongst themselves! And they had it! With this Civil War weakening the Empire with each passing day, they could strike anytime and no resistance would practically meet them. No, Harry believed that instead of fighting a pointless war with each other, the Stormcloaks and the Imperials should just join hands and stand against the Thalmor.

But, that wasn't how history went and the war rages on. If the two factions of the war weren't bad enough, the Bandits of Skyrim started to get together and strike bigger, and well defended towns. It added more stress to the already fragile situation.

Ever since the raids on the farms at Whiterun hold, the bandits have gotten stronger, bolder, and much more courageous in their raids. First, small towns were being raided, their inhabitants slaughtered. Then they started moving on to larger, well defended towns, with pretty much the same devastating effects.

Harry had to agree with Savos; the bandits were getting help. An ally was what they had, and ally was what was giving them courage.

But who was this ally?

It was one of the questions Harry wanted to answer.

"I for one, would like to stay out of the war. It's much more profitable and worthy to stay neutral in a war, don't you think?"

"Of the Imperials ever take Riften and burn your house to the ground, I'm sure you'll be singing a very different tune, _Breton._"

"What is it with you and this utter fascination to join the Stormcloaks?"

"My dedication to Skyrim, that's what! As far as I'm concerned, the Empire is doomed! We need to split and fight the Dominion ourselves!"

"What makes you think you'll beat the Dominion? If the Empire can't how can you? The Empire has a larger army than Skyrim, how can you possibly defeat an enemy that beat _your_ enemy?"

The man grumbled a response to inaudible to understand. Harry just sat there and listened to the conversation grow, not caring who spoke, only for what they had to say.

"Setting this war aside, have you heard how the bandits in the plains are getting bolder? Whispers say that they actually sent an envoy to try and get the Thieves' Guild to join them."

"And how could you have come across such information?"

"It's there if you know where to look."

Harry suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. Typical answer for a man his type.

"The Thieves of course, refused. The Bandits tried to kill them after that, and they ended up swimming with the fishes on the lake outside Riften."

"You'd think that with how much influence they've been gaining, the Thieves would actually agree."

"Influence?"

Harry's attention was again caught.

"Yeah. Didn't you hear what happened in Falkreath? A bandit actually disguised as one of the hold's guards nearly killed the Jarl!"

"Really?"

"When was this?"

"It was four days ago if I'm correct. I'm not surprised you didn't hear; no one in this side of the town cares enough for that city that they actually want to hear a word from it."

"This is not good. If Bandits can get that kind of power, I wonder what other groups like the Raiders can do now that everyone knows that the Jarls of Skyrim are not safe."

"_Interesting."_ Harry thought. It seemed that the bandits were trying to get every hold in Skyrim to pick a side. He was thoroughly suspicious of the Thalmor's hand in this. Could they be the allies of the bandits? If so, then they really wanted to dominate all of Tamriel.

If the holds of Skyrim choose a side, it could further deepen the already big mistrust everyone had for each other, and further weaken the structure that Skyrim, and therefore the Empire, was built on.

In short, divide and conquer.

It was actually a brilliant plan, now that Harry thought about it. It would be interesting to wait and see how the Empire would investigate the Bandit's rise to power. He had already felt that the Stormcloak rebels had their suspicions on how the Bandits rose to power, and they were going to fight this Civil War harder.

Harry wanted to help desperately end this war, but without much of a proof to show anyone, his quest to help end a war had already ended far before he even started it.

The conversation wasn't quite interesting after that, turning to long talks about research, some 'fascinating' discoveries in Morrowind, and of a new type of ingredient that was to be 'immediately' used in alchemy.

He didn't listen to them any longer, concentrating more on sleeping.

The days that remained in their journey barely registered in Harry's mind as he minded his own business. Thankfully, the mages were silent and didn't speak with each other much, leaving Harry in silence.

Dawnstar, much like Winterhold, was pretty much assaulted day by day with a mass of snow fall. The only exception was that it had a small port where Sea Merchants went to have their goods delivered. Fish, Ore, Animal Meat that were native only to other regions in Tamriel, and other products were off loaded here, where it would then be distributed and delivered to the different towns and cities to the North. These places mostly just include Solitude, Dawnstar itself, Winterhold, and small towns, taverns, and inns in between.

Much of the supply never reaches Solitude though, as Solitude had its own port.

It was a city of bustling activity. Unlike the dreary and almost dead atmosphere of Winterhold, Dawnstar was a breath of fresh air for Harry. Miners, Merchants and Guards all conversed loudly with one another.

"This is our stop!" Savos loudly exclaimed from the other carriage, hopping off it as soon as it stopped. Everyone followed suit after that, before they got their luggage and other items they'd need on the journey. Several books, notes, and other materiel fell out from Harry's pack as he unloaded it off the carriage. He was well aware of the critical eye the mages were giving him once again, and felt at least a little bit of satisfaction when they nodded approvingly to the books he had. _Alchemy: A Intermediate Level, _and _Destruction and Conjuration: The Secret _earned him quiet pats on the back. At least they were happy with his choice of books.

"Come along now. Our ship awaits us." Savos said, leading them through a small crowd that blocked their way to the docks.

"This place is positively lively! I can't help but think of Whiterun!" one of the old mages said.

"I agree! This place looks as if it hasn't been touched by the war at all! I told you neutrality was beneficial!"

They continued on their walk, fighting through the increasingly growing crowd to the docks. Men carried wood, rocks, and other materials on their shoulders with great strain while women went about their business with small baskets they laid atop their heads. The store keepers were noisily announcing what they had and how much they sold them; in all, it was progress within chaos.

"Savos, I was wondering. Why are we using a ship to travel all the way to Cyrodiil? It is an awfully long journey. Won't it be much faster to cross the border through Helgen?" Harry asked.

"That would be plausible, had the Empire not closed its borders to Skyrim. The only way to enter Cyrodiil now is for us to travel by sea to the port city Anvil, in western Cyrodiil. From there, it should be easy going for us."

Harry nodded. He remembered quite clearly now. The day that the announcement from the Imperial City came, the citizens of Winterhold were quite confused and shocked to hear from one of the court scribes of the Empire that Cyrodiil was closing off its borders to Skyrim. Even the most fanatical of Stormcloak supporters in the city couldn't believe what they were hearing.

Basically, with the borders closed off, the supplies that the city needed to continue to survive would stop coming. He was willing to bet that in a month or two, the Jarl would fold and give in to the temptation to join the Stormcloaks.

True, what the Empire did was a foolish move. With the borders closed off, they drove every neutral hold in Skyrim further away from them, but knowing some Jarls as Harry did, many holds would likely join the Empire where resources were not scarce, unlike the rebel side of things.

"Captain Morellius?" Savos asked, facing an old Nord who looked as if he was barely clinging on to his life. Appearances were quite deceiving it seemed.

"Arch Mage Savos?" The man said with a voice that seemed far out of his age. "A pleasure to meet you."

Savos and he continued to talk for few more minutes, as if the both of them had forgotten Harry and the old mages he was with. The deep, baritone voice of the Captain droned on and on about rules aboard his ship that Harry actually started to yawn. After hearing the mages speak for hours upon hours, the single, deep voice of the captain was more of a lullaby to Harry then anything.

"Have I made myself clear, Arch Mage?"

"Quite. Now may I ask for some help to transport our luggage into your ship?" Savos asked, a bit annoyed at the old man.

"Indeed. Auructus! Solime! Come and help with these people!" The captain drawled, motioning for two men to come over.

They helped them board the ship, and brought the group of mages below deck, where beds and cots were present for them to sleep on.

"You expect us to sleep here?" One of the mages said.

"Well, it's either sleep or don't sleep at all. You're lucky; I have to sleep above deck with a bundle of ropes as my pillow. Sleep good magic boy." One of the helpers said, a wide smile gracing his face.

"Well I never." The mage said, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched the two workers leave the deck, presumably to return to their work.

"I'll just talk to the captain then." Savos finally said after a few moments of awkward silence.

He left them as he made his way upwards. Harry went after him, not really wanting to stay in the same deck with the noisy mages.

"Sir! Wait!" Harry said, running beside the Arch Mage just as he was about to climb up the ladders to the deck above.

"Yes, Ulrich?" Savos said, a small smile on his lips.

"Don't leave me with _them. _For the sake of Sovngarde, don't!"

The Arch Mage merely laughed at his predicament, and motioned for him to follow. They went up the ladder, with the Arch Mage having a bit of a problem due to the length of his Mage's robes.

"Now, don't say anything that might aggravate this man. No, don't say anything at all unless he speaks to you. I feel like he's the sort to throw us off the ship when he sees one hair out of line." Savos said as they walked towards the old man.

Unlike before, the old man had thrown the top half of his clothes away and was helping his crew make preparations to leave port. The muscle on his body would've been nice to look at, if it weren't for the wrinkly skin, the veins that protruded from various points in his arms and chest, and the overall dark spots on his skin. The man had certainly seen better days.

He smelled bad too.

"Captain?" Savos said.

From his side, Harry could see perfectly how the old mage wrinkle his nose for a short while as he tried to speak to the old captain.

"What is it Arch Mage?" the man snapped.

"I was just wondering of the route we are going to use to reach Anvil." Savos said, a look of annoyance on his face.

The old man gave Savos a calculating look as he pulled on a thick rope. Finally, he answered.

"We'll be using a route westwards; making a stop first at Daggerfall, then finally at Hegathe before we continue on to Anvil. If we're not able to collect sufficient supplies in Hegathe, we'll make a stop at Rihad, in Hammerfell."

"Thank you." Savos said, not really liking every single second he spent with the old man.

"Come, Ulrich. I'm sure the others are awaiting us below deck."

Harry groaned as he followed the Arch Mage back to the lower deck, complaining silently in his mind.

"What took you so long Savos?" one of the mages said as soon as they entered the sleeping quarters. "The smell in here is horrid! Do they really expect us to sleep in these coots they think are passable as beds?" the man said, grimacing as he looked at the 'beds' in front of him.

"Alas, my dear friend, its either wait for the borders to open, and miss out on the new discoveries in the Arcane College, or get there early, in time for the unveiling of these said new discoveries. And I think you and I both know how you'd trade a little bit of discomfort for the chance to learn something new." Savos said, throwing his pack onto the foot of a bed.

"Well, I suppose…" the man said unsurely as he began deposited his own pack on another bed.

"Cheer up my friends. Sooner than you think, we'll be at Anvil drinking the finest beverages the Empire can provide." Savos said, trying to cheer up his fellow mages.

Some seemed to not care, and hunkered down on the beds, being more used to a little 'rough' accommodation than others. The more dominant population of the mages however, looked on in frustration as their fellow mages settled down around them. Being more used to living the high life in places such as the College, Markarth, and in Whiterun, the beds the captain could provide were simply not sufficient for them.

Harry watched all this in amusement, cheering silently for the small victory he had against the 'noisy fellows.'

"Arch Mage?" a crew member interrupted a few minutes later. "The Captain wanted me to inform you that we're setting sail in five minutes."

"Thank you. Tell him I'll be up shortly. I just have to settle in." Savos said.

"Yes sir."

"Finally! I don't think I'll be able to stand another second here! The faster we're at Cyrodiil, the better!"

Though Harry was still irate at the old mages, he couldn't help but agree with the man's sentiments.

"I'll be just a few moments my friends." Savos said, nodding to them all as he once again left.

"Hey, you. Ulrich was it? How do you feel about the recent findings in Cyrodiil?" A man to Harry's left said excitedly.

He shook his head, stopping the rumbling man from making another statement. "I'm not, err, don't know anything about the discoveries."

The man's eyes widened in shock. "What? But I thought you were the Savos' Apprentice? Surely he'll be taking you to Cyrodiil to study those discoveries?"

"I-I suppose. He only asked me to come along so I could continue my training in Destruction Spells." Harry said, lying straight through his teeth.

"Figures. Young people these days only care for the harmful side of magic. A product of all this war mongering I assure you." The man to Harry's right suddenly cut in.

Harry took a little offence at being thrown in to the usual crowd of the 'younger' generation of mages. He highly respected and trained in the other forms of magic besides Destruction, and he did not like the way that man just sneered at him.

He was about to retort when the ship suddenly gave a sudden jerk, making him grasp onto the thin mattress of his bed tighter. The others, who were standing, were not quite lucky. They tripped and fell, and it made a comical sight as four old men tried to get quickly back on their feet with a little dignity.

"Well, we're moving. That's something." Harry quietly muttered to himself, shuddering slightly as the wood of the hull started creaking as the ship moved. They started to move from side to side as the wood silently creaked, and a disorienting sway started to unleash the more…sickly side of the mages Harry was with.

In short, they started to release what they had for breakfast on the cold wooden floor of the deck.

The crewmen who were in the deck with them laughed loudly, and started to clean up the mess the sick mages had made. Harry himself was a little bit sick, but unlike the mages, he was a little stronger in the stomach than them.

"Sorry for the slight delay, gentlemen, but stowaways have been caught trying to enter the ship. Fear not, they are currently at the hands of the guards." Savos said cheerily as his face scrunched up in disgust. "What is the putrid stench I smell in here?"

00-00

_Dear J'zargo,_

_I hope this letter finds its way to you my friend. I have to say that the ship we're currently on, the Tide Runner as I've been told, is a dreary prison for any of its passengers; crewmember or not. The atmosphere around here is slowly driving everyone off the edge. The old mages around me are nearly ready to explode and jump overboard. _

_How is everything in the College? How are your experimental scrolls? Did you at least find someone to test them for you? _

_I have to go, we'll be making landfall in Daggerfall soon, where I'm going to drop this letter off. _

_See you in a couple of months,_

_Your Friend,_

_Ulrich_

Harry folded the letter and tucked it into the pocket of his robes.

It had been exactly a week since they left Dawnstar. Everyone's tempers were slowly being cut short by the frustration they felt as they slowly sailed south to Anvil. Almost everyone was in a cranky mood; the mages being the worst of them all. They shouted at everyone who irritated them. Even the more mild mannered of the mages were starting to scream for every little mistake someone made. It took every skill Savos had to convince the captain to not just chuck them off the ship.

Frozen patches of ice that blocked their path hadn't helped, and the cold air they were forced to traverse through certainly didn't help the situation any better. They often had to stop for crewmembers to get down from the ship to break the ice that blocked their path, and the mages were asked to help melt the patches of ice a couple of times.

The few people who hadn't had their tempers cut short were Savos, the Captain, a few of the more veteran members of the crew, Harry, and an adventurer making his way to Cyrodiil. The rest were hot headed and ready to turn on each other for a bit of warmth and some food.

Magically charged tempers didn't help at all.

Harry climbed the ladder that took him to the top deck, and had to blink his eyes as the bright sun light entered his field of vision. The cold, bitter air that they travelled through in the past few days were gone. Granted, the air was till cold, but not the unbearable cold it had once been.

He watched as the captain directed his crew to make preparations to dock, the Arch Mage standing tall beside him. The great city of Daggerfall glowered brightly in the distance. It was _big._ Harry only gaped up in total surprise and adoration at the beautiful city. Unlike the great cities of Skyrim, Daggerfall seemingly appeared to be made out entirely of great slabs of rock joined together to form one seemingly mighty building.

It seemed like Harry was going to like High Rock. This _was_ where he was from right? According to Thorin, he looked like a Breton. And Bretons came from High Rock.

And High Rock looked peaceful.

"Harry, you should wake the others. We'll be arriving in town in a few short moments." Savos suddenly said from behind him.

Harry just nodded, before he went below deck to follow the Arch Mage's command. Several of the old men grumbled in annoyance at being woken, but after hearing the words 'land' and 'Daggerfall,' they immediately stood up and rushed up the ladder.

"Make sure you all set that platform properly! There'll be hell to pay if I fall into the water all because none of you have properly set that platform right!" The Captain yelled as the ship slowed to a stop in the dock. Several men and women both on the land and on the ship were throwing thick bundles of ropes at each other, before the man or woman opposite of them tied it securely on either the ship or the small beacons of wood on the land.

It wasn't long before their feet touched the ground, and as soon as they did, the old mages Harry and Savos were with automatically, and quite literally, kissed the land.

They stayed in Daggerfall for quite a few days after that. The crew restocked their supplies, and the mages took to buying books from every store they could find in the city. Harry meanwhile just took to exploring the vastness of the city with Savos, who, like Harry, was quite surprised and pleased at the new things they learned in the small time they've spent in a small part of High Rock.

For one, unlike the Nords of Skyrim, the soldiers of High Rock wore Chain Mail like it was common materiel. Their limbs were quite thoroughly protected with silver armor, and most of them seem to favor spears more than swords. The lifestyle in Daggerfall was vastly different from how people lived in Skyrim. For one, Talos worship was not nearly as widespread here as it was in Skyrim. Bretons, as Harry was told by the people he'd talked with, never really worshipped him with much enthusiasm. He was also told by some people that they were glad they never had to worship Talos.

They were quite content with the Thalmor leaving them alone. Due to the Breton's lack of love for Talos, the Aldmeri Dominion held no interest in them…aside from taking them away from Empire hands that is.

Many people in the area despised the Elves though, due to historical reasons. Bretons, Harry found out, were…sex slaves for the elves in the past. And it seemed that people in High Rock didn't want elves in their lands.

He'd managed to send his letter for his friend J'zargo off. It turns out that unlike in Skyrim; Daggerfall was very much organized, having entire buildings dedicated to the sending of messages and packages.

What they considered sport here was quite violent too. Jousting? Seriously?

Aside from the large size of the city, the peacefulness and the overall quality of the shops and inns, there wasn't much to see in Daggerfall. It was fun the few days they were there, but as the days droned pass, the sights and scenes in the city easily got old. There was nothing much there that they couldn't see in Skyrim.

Well, for the others that is. Harry himself was quite pleased with the chance to see a city from a land he now believed he came from. There was this sense of comfort he had in him when he was walking down one of the many streets in the city.

It gave him a sense of hope…of belonging.

Currently, on the sixteenth day in the city, Harry was sitting on one of the many benches in the city. A small, narrow river sat before him, separating the more political side of the city from the public domain. A line of beautiful trees stood tall behind him; they extended all the way to where the small river began, to the very tip of the city. It was a beautiful sight to behold in all honesty. He sat there alone and satisfied; the Arch Mage nowhere to be seen and neither were the old mages who kept him company most of the time.

Various things the Arch Mage had to attend to in terms of the ship and its Captain kept him away from Harry for a time, and honestly, Harry welcomed the sense of peace it left him. The silence and serenity of the current Arch Mage's absence was quite yearned for by the young mage. He didn't have time to ponder his thoughts much anymore.

"Kilma Trees." A high pitched, but pleasant voice said from in front of him.

He popped an eye open, just to look at who had spoken, and found the heart shaped smiling face of a blonde girl with blue eyes staring at him.

"What?" Harry asked rather blankly.

The girl's cheeks flushed as she stammered a reply.

"The trees behind you; Kilma Trees. They're one of the oldest trees here in Daggerfall, dating back to the Third Era itself." She said, the smile never leaving her place. "Is this seat taken?"She asked, pointing to the space beside Harry on the bench.

"Oh no. Go ahead." Harry said, moving aside to let the girl sit.

"I heard you were one of the travelers who came here by ship." She started.

"What? Oh, oh no. I'm not staying here for long. I'm actually on my way to Cyrodiil." Harry replied.

"Really? Why?"

"Purely educational purposes." Harry said, smiling at her.

"I see." She said as she stifled a laugh behind her hand.

They sat in awkward silence after that, not truly having any idea of what to say. Harry knew what she was doing, and frankly, he let himself be dragged into it just to have a little bit of fun to alleviate the stress that had been pressing on his shoulders.

"Hey, err, there is this gathering at the edge of the city tonight. It's a ball of sorts. Anyone who wants to go can come, and I was wondering if you'd like to accompany me?" The girl finally stated, looking at Harry hopefully.

Seeing as how they wouldn't leave for another two days, Harry could go to this ball of hers and just acquaint himself with the people. There was no harm in that, right?

"Sure." Harry finally said, if a bit reluctantly. He smiled at the girl who was now quietly giggling.

"Thank you! Thank you! I'll meet you here before the sun sinks then?"

Harry just nodded at the enthusiastic girl.

"Great! Wear your best robes then! We'll look absolutely dashing together!"

He just met her, and already she was flirting. She walked away with a bounce in her step.

Harry laughed at the situation, shaking his head slightly at the craziness of it all. It seemed that his luck was finally pulling through.

"_Wait…I don't have any nice dress robes to wear!" _

Or not.

00-00

"Savos! Savos! Thank the Divines you're here! I need some help!" Harry said as he rushed up to Savos side. The Arch Mage in question raised a questioning brow at him.

"I, ah, I sort of accepted t-"

"Let me guess, you accepted to accompany a young woman to a gathering being thrown by Lord Alterius at the edge of the city?" Savos said, crossing his arms on his chest.

"Yes! No! Wait, who's Lord Alterius?" Harry asked.

"One of the more prominent political figures here in High Rock."

"Oh, well yes then. I need some help. I need some help finding a dress robe." Harry said, hope in his voice.

Savos grumbled an incoherent response before he fished a bag of septims for his pocket.

"Well, I hazard a guess that it'd be better for us to start early. Sovngarde knows of how many hours we'll spend finding a suitable, and yet cheap dress robe."

"You're going too?"

The Arch Mage nodded.

"Apparently, someone has gotten word of the Arch Mage of the College of Winterhold arriving here in Daggerfall. As usual, the news spread to the nobles, and in turn, they invited me along to this fancy gathering of theirs. They don't get hints quite easily." Savos said disdainfully. Apparently, he didn't like social gatherings such as this. His demeanor was testament to that.

"Now, come along Ulrich. I see a long night ahead for the both of us." Savos said, leading Harry to one of the many tailors in the city.

It would be well after three hours before they both found something suitable, and yet was cheap. Savos paid for all of it, saying something akin to 'spoiling someone young,' before they made their way back to the inn. A few minutes of freshening up and a few change of garments later, the two left the inn with the old mages shooting odd questions behind them. Apparently _they_ were disappointed to not have been invited to the gathering.

"You go ahead, sir. I have to meet the one who invited me here. I'll catch up." He said to Savos, who merely nodded and went on his way.

Looking around and seeing no one but a few citizens walking around aimlessly, he sat down on the bench he sat on earlier, before falling into the task of watching the small river. It was a few minutes more before sunset, so in reality, Harry was little too early for his meeting with the girl.

Remembering that he _was_ indeed meeting a girl, Harry turned around and brought out his want. "Orchideus." He silently muttered, smiling widely as a bouquet of flowers sprout out from the tip of his wand.

He took only one rose however.

Finally, after a few minutes more of waiting, the girl had arrived. She smiled warmly at him, and Harry offered his arm out for her to take.

"I, ah, sort of don't know where to-"

"Go?" She asked with a laugh.

"Yeah."

She tugged him into the right direction, and they chatted up politely on the way. Her name was Rosial, part of a middle-class family living in the central part of the city. Her mother sold pastries off for a living, while her father was part of the people who worked at the docks. It was a moderate pay, high risk sort of job.

In turn, he told her anything he could disclose, being careful not to say anything that might bite him from behind later. She was quite put off with how much information he was able to share, which wasn't much truth to be told, but held her head high as they neared the very large mansion where the 'gathering' was held. Even from outside, you could hear the loud and boisterous laughter of the people inside as they danced rhythmically to the music being played.

They approached the main gates, and watched as the two men clad in a complete set of armor gave them a solid and quick salute before letting them pass. Harry was deeply impressed with this, and silently agreed that he would have to revisit High Rock sometime in the future.

Finally, after a short walk, they entered the hall. Harry was extremely shocked at how high the ceiling was, and how _big_ the entire place seemed to be.

"Ah! Miss Aurellius! What a pleasant surprise!" a man suddenly said, taking Rosial's hand and giving it a quick peck. "I'd thought you wouldn't come! How wonderful. And who might your partner be?" He asked politely as he gave Harry a kind nod.

"This is Ulrich Stargazer, Theodrus. He's one of the men accompanying the Arch Mage for his visit to Cyrodiil." Rosial said with a smile.

"Ah yes! Arch Mage Savos Aren! I'm a fan of his work! I especially liked the book he published on his theories regarding Meditation!" the man said, shaking Harry's hand enthusiastically. "Well, I have bored you enough with my blabbering. I shall leave you to enjoy this party now. Sir Stargazer. Miss Aurellius." And with that, he left.

"Pleasant fellow." Harry mused.

Rosial laughed beside him. "You'd forgive Theodrus for his behavior. Being a servant of a Lord can be quite a taxing job on someone."

Harry didn't say anything, not really knowing what it felt like to be lorded over by someone he could pretty much careless about.

"I see some of my friends out there in the corner. I'll just be a minute, Ulrich." She said before she left, leaving Harry standing in the middle of a crowd where he practically knew no one. He looked around for any sign of Savos, spotting him standing in the corner looking slightly worried as he sipped some beverage from his goblet.

He immediately approached him, not caring for the moment if Rosial returned or not. Who invites people to a ball and then suddenly leaves them in the middle of a crowd as soon as they get there? Who does that?

"Savos! Thank Sovngarde I found you!" Harry exclaimed.

"Ulrich!" said the worried man.

Harry looked at him rather strangely as the man continued to look alarmingly worried by the second. He grabbed Harry by the shoulders, and whispered furiously so that only Harry could hear.

"You must get out of here Harry! You must get out of this place! Tell the captain to set sail immedi-"

He never got any further as a tall, lanky man walked up to Savos and said,

"My, I never expected an Arch Mage to be at my party!" the man exclaimed.

Savos immediately let go of Harry's shoulder as he stood ramrod straight and stared at the man talking to them.

"Oh, Lord Alterius! Pleasure to finally meet your acquaintance." Savos stuttered out.

Harry knew immediately that something was wrong. Nothing ever spooked Savos this way. He kept his wand in the small pocket in his sleeves just to be ready as he started to warily look around him for any dangers.

The two men shook hands before Alterius took notice of Harry. "And who is this fine gentleman here?" He asked, looking at Harry with a smile.

"Ah, this is my Apprentice. Ulrich Stargazer."

Lord Alterius looked quite shocked at the revelation, and stared at Harry with something close to awe.

"An Apprentice? Well, you certainly brought your work with you, haven't you Arch Mage?"

"Yes. His training can never stop." Savos said with a bit of a forced smile.

"I understand. I once trained in the Arcane Arts myself." Lord Alterius said. "Now, I best be off, Arch Mage. We shall talk later when I've properly acquainted myself with the rest of my guests." He said, before he finally marched off.

Harry kept his eyes trained on him, and watched as he whispered something to one of the guards.

This was not good.

"What's going on Savos?" Harry furiously whispered.

"You don't need to know. You just get out of here while you still can!"

"But-"

Suddenly, both men were inexplicably grabbed from behind by gentle hands, and before they knew it, they were in the middle of the dancing crowd with women in their arms.

"What are you-"

"Not now. If you want to leave here alive with Arch Mage Savos, you do what I say. Got it?" the woman who had Harry said. She was shorter than he was, but judging by the way she grasped on to his hands, she was the stronger one.

Harry could only nod as he watched the same threat being passed on to his teacher, whose eyes widened in complete shock and confusion as they were danced around in the hall.

"There are men in robes coming up from behind you, ready to grab you and Savos any moment now. When they try, me and the other woman I'm with will distract them, long enough for you to escape this place. Once you do, don't stop running, don't look back, and whatever you hear, don't come back for us. Run straight to your ship. Your captain is already waiting and the mages you were with are safe."

"I don't understand. What's-"

"Questions later. Follow what I said, and you will live. Got it?" she asked. By this point, the two men could only stare in confusion while the two men with purpose shook them.

"Do. You. Get. It." The woman holding Harry asked, putting emphasis on each word by shaking Harry.

He nodded, though out of agreement or out of fear he did not know.

The woman in Harry's eyes widened, and she turned to look at her partner.

"Change of plans. Looks like we have to fight our way out." She said.

A hand grabbed Harry roughly by neck as he watched the girl he was with get grabbed from behind by a guard.

He saw red immediately and before anyone could register what he was doing, he reached for the wrist that was grabbing him from behind, and twisted his body roughly, bringing the wrist along with him for the twist. The sound of bone breaking and a man screaming suddenly put everyone in a state of shock. Nobody moved or made a sound for a few seconds, before they started to back away from the Arch Mage and his company.

Harry turned around to help the girl, but was quietly surprised to find that she had already subdued her apprehender. His gaze went to Savos and the woman she was with, only to find pretty much the same situation.

"There they are! Get them!"one of the black cloaked men said, pointing furiously at Harry and the others.

"Now would be a really great time to show them your magic." The woman who held Savos said.

Harry pointed his hand at them, willing a bolt of lightning to come out.

None came.

"My magic doesn't work!" Harry exclaimed.

"Mine isn't working either!" Savos said.

The guards had reached them, and Harry had just enough time to dodge the swing a guard made that would have surely taken his head off. The girl who grabbed Harry tackled another guard to the ground, and started to throw punches at the armored man.

Harry dodged another swing from the guard, before giving out a solid left punch to the man's face, making him stagger backwards slightly. He held onto the hilt of the man's sword, striking viciously at the rib of the man as he tried to make him let go.

As soon as he did, Harry kicked him the face, sending him into blissful sleep.

Savos and the other girl had finished both of their fights.

"We need to get out now!"

"Through the main doorway! Hurry!" Savos exclaimed as they ran out of the large hall and into the front lawn, where guards started to charge them from left and right.

Harry ducked from a swing aimed at his head, before sharply bringing his sword upwards, making a huge gash appear on the man's side, before he dodged another swipe at his head by rolling sideways to his right, and giving one big swing at a man's leg, which he effectively cut off.

"Gahh!" He ducked just in time to avoid a narrow swing by a large, burly man.

He parried a swing from him, ducking out of the way as he swung at him once more, and cutting upwards through the man's side before finishing him off with a quick stab to the back. Blood spurted and gurgled out of his mouth as he gave his final breath, prompting Harry to go and help out the others…

…who were already done with their battles.

"Come on!" He heard Savos yell again. They ran towards the gates, dodging arrows fired at them.

"It's locked! No!" One of the girls said.

Harry parried a blow from a guard, before he drove his knee straight up into the man's unprotected groin, before he stabbed the man behind the neck as he keeled over.

"I can't open it!"

Harry turned to them and flicked out his wand, much to the shocked gaze of Savos.

There was no other way. Get captured or maybe die here or escape Daggerfall altogether.

Harry was inclined on the latter choice.

"Bombarda!" He wordlessly cast, blowing the gate into oblivion. Thankfully, no one saw his wand as they all rushed out as soon as the gate was blown; that and the fact that Harry was holding onto a small portion of its length, so it was barely noticeable unless you look for it straight up.

"Move!"

They ran quickly, the black cloaked men and the guards hot on their heels.

"Oppugno!" Harry wordlessly cast, making the apples he was aiming for attack the ones chasing them mercilessly.

"Hurry!"

An arrow whizzed by Harry's head, missing him barely by inches. It grazed his right cheek, leaving a small gash where unblemished skin was once before.

The sound of horses made him look back. He watched as four horsemen were catching up to them very quickly.

"Stop!" they screamed, thrusting their spears forward in an attempt to stab them from behind.

The crowds of people screamed, standing aside as the guards chased the four. They were so near the docks no, so near to salvation.

But Harry knew they needed one good distraction to get there alive.

He slashed his wand sideways, sending a brilliant flash of red let into one of the Kilma Trees. Its base exploded in a fiery display of power as it groaned and fell on top of the street, blocking the horsemen from further progress.

"_Yes!"_ Harry mentally cheered as they made it to the docks, pushing past workers and fighting the guards that were there. They hacked and slashed, and Harry used Tamrielic magic to burn some of them alive.

"Get on the boat! Get on the boat!" Savos said.

They rushed up the wooden plank, sending spell after spell at the guards chasing them on foot.

"Captain, let's go!" Savos screamed, pushing the wooden plank off the ship. The plank and the guards walking on it fell into the murky waters of the sea below.

"All of you get this ship moving now!"

"Aye captain!"

With a violent jerk, the ship set sail once more, and moved out into the open sea as vessels full of guards and the like started to give chase.

"Give her the best speed she has men!" the captain cheered, pulling out a small telescope and looking through it.

"Arch Mage! Do you think you can get three boats full of guards off our backs?" The Captain asked.

Savos and Harry looked at each other, before rushing to the end of the ship. There, just behind them were three ships as big as the Tide Runner itself moving quickly behind them. The Arch Mage looked at Harry, and then reluctantly nodded.

Harry sighed; desperate times it seemed.

He pulled out his wand once more, releasing a beam of red light as he slashed it forward.

One of the ships had its front part taken out, burning in the almost lightless night. The other ships crewmembers looked on in shock and awe as the ship burned, its crewmembers screaming and crying in unadulterated pain as the ship sunk slowly.

"That'll get them off our backs." Harry muttered, staring at the destruction he'd caused.

Savos sighed, patting Harry on the back before he turned and walked away.

"Hey! Hey! What was that Savos? What in Sovngarde happened back there?" Harry asked, confusion and adrenaline ebbing away his temper.

"There are things, you'd rather not know." Savos said.

"I need to know! You've been keeping far too many secrets from me lately! I want to know now! Why'd Lord Alterius' men suddenly attack us like that? The guards were all but worshipping you for being an Arch Mage, and the next, they're chasing you- _us_ – through town like some bull for sport! What was that?" Harry exclaimed.

It seemed like the Captain wanted answers too, as he walked nearer to them with anger on his face.

"I'd like to know that too. I won't have someone who'll be dangerous and be the cause of the destruction of my ship to be here any longer." He said.

"Well?" Harry asked when the Arch Mage didn't answer.

"They were trying to take him out." Someone suddenly cut in.

Harry turned to look at who was speaking. It was the woman who had grabbed him earlier.

"And you are?" The Captain asked.

"Milda, and this is my companion, Christina." The woman with jet black hair much like Harry said. The one beside her was blonde.

Both wore formal dresses, though there was nothing special about them. They even looked like they inhibited much of the women's movement.

"Well then Milda, why were guards poking their noses in on this ship where it doesn't belong?" The Captain asked in anger.

"No!" Savos said.

"They have a right to know, Arch Mage! This ship is _his_," she pointed to the Captain. "And you're endangering your student by dragging him along into this trip of yours to Cyrodiil!"she said, pointing to Harry.

"They cannot know." Savos said with worry etched in his voice.

"They need to." The black haired woman said with finality.

She turned to look at Harry. "The reason you and the Arch Mage were attacked tonight, was because they were trying to take the Arch Mage out for good."

"What? Why?" Harry asked.

"You know all about the Civil War in Skyrim?"

"Yes. It was the cause of that treaty the Empire signed. But I don't see how this is relevant."

"It is relevant, because the Aldmeri Dominion is getting exactly what they want. This was an attempt to assassinate the Arch Mage so that the Dominion could gain power at the College. Don't you ever wonder why the bandits of the plains suddenly became powerful? They're allies with the Dominion now. This whole Civil War is exactly what the Thalmor want. I-"

"Stop! Stop!" Harry suddenly said. The faces around him were grim, shocked, and scared. The crewmembers had listened in, and some of them were already casting suspicious eyes at the elves of the crew.

"Savos…" Harry said.

The Arch Mage shook his head sadly. "It's all true. The Thalmor want to take me out, so they have ruling power with the cities to the North. They have an advantageous position to garrison their troops, and I'm afraid that is only the least of our problems." He said.

Harry bowed his head in anger.

He left and went below decks faster than anyone could stop him.

**A/N: All right well there's another beautiful chapter for everyone. **

**Gavoon- Gods I'm sorry man if I sounded like an ass. I didn't mean it. God, sorry for making you feel that way man. **

**HaywireEagle- Yeah, the transitions in the last chapter could've been better. I really need to learn to take things slow. ^_^**

**To everyone else who reviewed, Thank you! Your thoughts are very much appreciated and so far, you've helped me with my plot progression. Keep going guys :)**

**Sorry for not updating for so long, but I was partying all day and night as invites suddenly came in. **

**No actually I just didn't know how to write this chapter out. After several versions of this chapter, one where Harry dies, Harry falls off a cliff and a version where Harry gets to Cyrodiil through a cave, I made this. **

**I'm particularly happy with this chapter as it now fleshes out the story I want. **

**I've taken creative liberty and chosen another faction for Harry to join; one that isn't particularly aligned with the Thalmor or with the destruction of the Thalmor. **

**So yeah, enjoy, review and see you next week as school's there for me tomorrow. **

**Oh and do take note that I **_**have**_** changed a few things in the Skyrim universe. I also took my description of Daggerfall based on what I saw from TES 2, so if it's pretty inaccurate, message me. **

**Thanks for the time, this is Thorin Stormbrewer telling you:**

**See you next week.**


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